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>> 







THE INDO-EUROPEAN FAMILY OF LANGUAGES. 






ILLUSTRATED HISTORY 


OF 

ANCIENT LITERATURE 


ORIENTAL AND CLASSICAL 


BY 

JOHN D. QUACKENBOS, A.M., M.D. 

»# 

ADJUNCT PROFESSOR OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND 
LITERATURE, COLUMBIA COLLEGE 



ACCOMPANIED WITH 

ENGRAVINGS AND COLORED MAPS 


NEW EDITION 

REVISED AND CORRECTED 


NEW YORK 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS 
1890 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by 
JOHN D. QUACKENBOS, 


In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


Copyright, 1889, by John D. Quackenbos. 


/^rs. lAV. Kite. 

3&C.7, 


PREFACE. 


The History of Literature, as a separate branch of the history of civiliza- 
tion, is of comparatively recent origin ; the first work on the subject in any 
language dating no further back than the sixteenth century, and being little 
more tlian a crude catalogue of authors and their books. Yet who can deny 
the great importance of such history? When studied in connection with 
illustrative extracts from the masterpieces of which it treats, it furnishes a 
key to the intellectual development of our race, introduces .us to the great 
minds that stand as beacon lights in successive ages, and with their wisdom 
widens the scope of knowledge, while it refines the taste and disciplines the 
judgment. Lord Bacon said but the truth, when he remarked that the his- 
tory of the world without the history of letters would be as incomplete as a 
statue of Polyphemus deprived of his single eye. 

Nor is this study without results of a direct practical bearing. Certainly 
all must appreciate the importance of understanding current allusions to 
the writers and literary w'orks of other ages and countries, and must admit 
that some acquaintance at least with such writers and works is essential to 
a well-grounded knowledge of one’s own language and a correct estimate 
of its literature. But when is such an acquaintance to be obtained, if not 
during a school or college course ? The engrossing duties of after-life leave 
little time for the pursuit of liberal studies. And how is such an acquaint- 
jince to be obtained ? All are not linguists, and the greater part must get 
it second-hand — must avail themselves of the labors of others who havo 
delved in these unfamiliar fields. 

It is to facilitate and popularize this study of genei’al literature by fur- 
nishing a complete and carefully condensed text-book on the subject, unen- 
cumbered by obscure names and wearisome details, that the volume now 
offered to the public has been prepared. It presents a full account of the 
literatures of ancient nations, and, treating of the origin and relationships of 
their respective languages, incidentally brings forward some of the most in- 
teresting facts of Comparative Philology. While the writings of Greece and 
Rome receive due attention, a new, and, it is believed, peculiarly valuable 
feature of the book will be found in its treatment of ancient Oriental lit- 
erature — particularly the Sanscrit and Persian, The labors of European 
scholars during the last quarter-century have thrown a chain of living inter- 
est around the subject, and awakened on this side of the Atlantic as well a 
thirst for further knowledge, which it is here attempted to satisfy. Tlie 


VI 


PREFACE. 


principles of Egyptian writing are also explained j and the literary treasures 
recently unearthed amid the ruins of the Nile Valley and elsewhere are 
described and illustrated. 

In treating the subject the author has aimed, while giving a clear outline 
of each literature as a whole, to make its great writers stand out in bold 
relief, and to associate them in the pupil’s mind with the works that have 
made them immortal. With this view brief biographies, not fragmentary 
or isolated, but grafted on the narrative where they naturally belong, are 
accompanied with short specimens, carefully selected to give the best idea 
of each author’s style and genius. In the critical views as well as the his- 
torical facts presented, the latest authorities have been followed, and the 
aid of maps and illustrations has been freely resorted to for the better elu- 
cidation of points on which they could throw light. 

The present volume has grown out of the author’s experience in the lect- 
ure-room ; and in the belief that it is of a scope and grade that will meet 
the popular want, he now offers it to high-schools, academies, and colleges. 
From such institutions he feels that no class should graduate in ignorance 
either of the Greek and Koman classics which have inspired the modern 
poet and philosopher, or of tliose precious remains of once great Oriental 
literatures that patient scholars of the nineteenth century have brought to 
light — that helped to shape the Greek mind itself in the morning of the 
world. He trusts that it may foster in the young admiration of the brilliant 
thoughts that sparkle in the pages of ancient lore, a love of literature, and 
a taste for philological investigations. 

Columbia College, June, 1878. 

In order that the friends of this popular work on Ancient Literature may 
be advised of the progress made in philological study during the present 
decade, the author has thoroughly revised the text, diagrams, and maps. The 
value of the revision is enhanced by the introduction of a carefully selectetF 
bibliography ; frequent references to standard monographs — not made to 
supply omissions, but as guides to those who may desire a full and author- 
itative course of collateral reading — are incorporated in the narrative. 
Attention is especially directed to the chapter on Egyptian writing and lit- 
erature, for which the author is extensively indebted to F. C. H. Wendel, 
Ph.D. (Strasburg). The results of the vast amount of labor expended in 
this most interesting and important field during the ten years that have 
elapsed since the issue of this text-book, are here for the first time given to 
English readers. Other specialists have materially aided the author in his 
work of revision. Acknowledgment is due to Dr. H. T. Peck, Professor of 
the Latin Language and Literature, and Dr. R. J. H. Gottheil, Professor of 
Syriac and Rabbinical Literature, Columbia College ; to Drs. E. D. Perry 
and A. V. W. Jackson, instructors respectively in Sanscrit and Avesta, 
Columbia College ; and to Dr. Chas. E. Moldehnke, the Egyptologist. 

Columbia College, May 1, 1889. 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

(Pages 11-30.) 

Definition and Divisions of Literature, page 11. — Origin and Relationship of 
Languages, 12. — The Aryans, 13. — Aryan Languages, 16. — Semitic Languages, 
16. — Turanian Languages, 17. — Written Language, 18. — Ideographic Writing, 
18. — Phonetic Writing, 19. — Modes of Writing and Pointing, 20. — Ancient Writ- 
ing Materials, 21. — General View of Ancient Literature, 25. 


PART I. 

ANCIENT ORIENTAL LITERATURES. 

Chapter I. — Hindoo Literature. 

(Pages 31-60.) 

Sanscrit Language, 31.— Sanscrit Alphabet, 32. — Sanscrit Researches, 33. — The 
Veda, 34. — The Upavedas, 35. — The Puranas, 35. — Social Life of the Vedic Peo- 
ple, 37.— Code of Manu, 38.— Epic Poetry, 40. — The Ramayana, 40. — The Maha- 
bharata, 43. — Lyric and Didactic Poetry, 46. — Kalidasa, 46. — Jayadeva, 48.— 
Gltagovinda, 49. — The Sanscrit Shakespeare, 50. — Sakoontala, 50. — The Hindoo 
Drama, 54. — Tales and Fables, 56. — History and Grammar, 57. — Buddhist Litera- 
ture, 58. — Writing Materials of the Hindoos, 60. 

Chapter II. — Persian Literature. 

(Pages 60-67. ) 

Avesta Tongue, 60. — Zoroaster, 61. — The Avesta, 62.— Avesta Philosophy, 63. 
— Persian Inscriptions, 65. — Rock of Behistun, 65. — The Royal Library, 67. 


CONTENTS. 


viii 


Chapter III. — Chinese Literature. 

(Pages 67-83.) 

Chinese Language, 67. — Chinese Writing, 68. — Antiquity of Chinese Litera- 
ture, 69.— Confucius, 70. — The Chinese Classics, 73. — The Four Shoo, 77. — The 
Confuciau Analects, 77.— Mencius, 79.— Spirit of the Chinese Classics, 80. — Lao- 
Tse, 82. 

Chapter IV. — Hebrew Literature. 

(Pages 83-104.) 

The Semitic Languages and their Distribution, 84. — The Ancient Hebrew, 85. 
— Hebrew Alphabet, 86.— Spirit of Hebrew Poetry, 88. — Parallelism, 89.— Dawn 
of Hebrew Literature, 90. — The Books of Moses, 90.— The Historical Books, 92.— 
The Book of Job, 93.— Golden Age of Hebrew Poetry, 93. — The Psalms, 93. — 
Elegiac Poetry, 94. — Didactic Poetry, 95. — Prophetic Poetry, 96. — Silver Age, 97. 
— The Apocrypha, 99. — The Talmud, 100. 

Chapter V. — Chaldean, Assyrian, Arabic, and Pikenician 

Literatures. 

(Pages 104-117.) 

Cuneiform Letters, 104. — Assy rio- Babylonian Writing Materials, 106. — Golden 
Age of Babylonian Literature, 107. — Deluge Tablets, 112. — Arabic Literature, 114. 
— Himyaritic Inscriptions, 114. — Phoenician Literature, 115. — Carthaginian Rel- 
ics. 116. 

Chapter VI. — Egyptian Literature. 

(Pages 117-131.) 

Egyptian Language, 118. — The -Rosetta Stone, 119. — Hieroglyphic Writing, 
120, 121. — Archaic Age of Egyptian Literature, 122. — Classical Age, 123. — Me- 
moirs of Saneha, 124. — Tale of Snake Island, 125. — Minstrel’s Song. 126. — 
Golden Age, 126. — Book of the Dead, 126, 127. — Hymns, 128. — Epic Poetry, 129. 
— Authorship, 130. 


PART II. 

GRECIAN LITERA TURE. 

Chapter I. — Birth of Grecian Literature. 

(Pages 133-138.) 

Early Settlement of Greece, 133. — Pelasgi and Hellenes, 134. — The Greek Lan- 
guage, 135. — Earliest Forms of Poetry, 137. — Legendary Poets, 138. 


CONTENTS. 


IX 


Chapter II. — Age of Epic Poetry. 

(Pages 139-156.) 

Homer, 139.— The Iliad, 141.— The Odyssey, 147 Minor Poems of Homer, 

150.— Cyclic Poets, 152 — Hesiod and his Works, 152.— Poets of the Epic Cycle, 
156. 

Chapter III. — Lyric Poetry. 

(Pages 157-178.) 

Rise and Varieties of Lyric Poetry, 157.— Callinus, 159.— Tyrtjeus, 160.— Ar- 
chilochus, 161. — Alolic and Doric Schools, 163. — Alcaeus, 164. — The Lesbian Poet- 
esses, 164.— Sappho, 165. — Sappho’s Pupils, 171.— Anacreon, 172. — Simonides, 174. 
—Minor Lyric Poets, 177. 

Chapter IV. — Rise of Greek Prose. 

(Pages 178-184.) 

Earliest Prose Writings, 178. — The Seven Sages, 179. — Solon, 179. — Thales, 
180. — iEsop, 181. — Progress of Greek Prose, 182. — Early Philosophers and Histo- 
rians, 183. 

Chapter V. — Golden Age of Grecian Literature. 

(Pages 184-262.) 

The Attic Period, 184.— Pindar, 185.— Antimachus, 192. — Dramatic Poetry, 192. 
— Aschylus, 194. — “Prometheus Chained,” 196. — Sophocles, 200. — “King (Edi- 
pus,” 202. — Euripides, 207. — “ Medea,” 209. — Greek Comedy, 212. — Aristophanes, 
213. — “ The Clouds,” 214. — “ The Birds,” 219. — History, 221. — Herodotus, 222. — 
Thucydides, 225. — Xenophon, 229. — Ctesias and Theopompus, 233. — Philosophy, 
234. — The Ionic and Italic Schools, 234. — Pythagoras, 235. — Empedocles, 236. — 
Xenophanes, 237. — Democritus, 237. — School of Epicurus, 238. — Pyrrho, the 
Skeptic, 238. — The Socratic, School, 239. — Plato and the Academic School, 241. — 
“ Phaedo,” 244. — Aristotle and the Peripatetic School, 247. — Aristotle’s Writings, 
248. — Theophrastus, 252. — The Stoic School, 253. — The Cynics, 254.— Oratory, 
255. — Demosthenes, 256. — The Speech “ On the Crown,” 257. — Alschines, 260. 

Chapter VI. — The Alexandrian Period. 

(Pages 262-280.) 

Decline of Letters, 262. — The New Comedy, 263. — Menander, 264.— Philemon, 
265.— Pastoral Poetry, 266.— Theocritus, 266. — Bion and Moschus, 269.— The Mu- 
seum, 272. — The Alexandrian Library, 273. — Poetry at Alexandria, 274. — Callim- 
achus, 274. — Apollonius Rhodius, 275. — Writers on Science, 276. — Critics and 
Grammarians, 277. — History, 277. — Polybius, 278. — The Septuagint, 279. 

Chapter VII. — Later Greek Literature. 

(Pages 230-302.) 

Decay of Greek Genius, 280.— Writers of the First Century B.C., 281. — Writers 


X 


CONTENTS. 


of the First Three Christian Centuries, 284. — Plutarch, 285. — Lucian, 288. — Pau- 
sanias, 292.— Origen, 293.— Neo-Platonism, 293. — Longinus, 294. — Athanasius and 
Chrysostom, 294. — Novel-writers, 295. — Hierocles, 295.— Byzantine Literature, 
297. — The Greek Anthology, 297. — Gems of Greek Thought, 300. 


PART III. 

ROMAN LITERATURE. 

Chapter I. — Latin and its Oldest Monuments. 

(Pages 303-307.) 

Italy Peopled, 303. — The Latin Language, 304. — Ancient Latin Relics, 305. 
Chapter II. — Dawn of Roman Literature. 

(Pages 307-329.) 

Indebtedness of Rome to Greek Authors, 307. — The Roman Drama, 308. — Livi- 
us Andronicus, 309. — Cneius Naevius, 310. — Ennius, 311. — Plautus, 312. — “The 
Captives,” 313. — Terence, 315. — “ The Self-Tormentor,” 317. — Decline of the Dra- 
ma, 319. — Epic Poetry, 320. — Nsevius and Ennius as Epic Poets, 320. — Satiric 
Poetry, 322. — Lucilius, 323. — Early Latin Prose, 324.— Cato the Censor, 324. — 
Laelius, Scipio, and the Gracchi, 326. — Antonius, Crassus, and Hortensius, 327. — • 
Minor Historians and Orators, 328. 

Chapter III. — Golden Age of Roman Literature. 

(Pages 329-388.) 

Periods of the Golden Age, 329. — Cicero, 330. — ^Varro, 337. — Julius Caesar, 339. 
—Sallust, 343. — Cornelius Nepos, 347. — Poets of the Ciceronian Period, 348. — Lu- 
cretius, 348.— Catullus, 352. — Poetiy^ of the Augustan Age, 354. — Virgil, 355. — 
Virgil’s Eclogues, 359.— Georgies, 360. — iEneid, 362. — Horace, 369.— Varius, 375. 
— Tibullus, 375. — Propertius, 377. — Ovid, 379. — Prose Writers of the Augustan 
Age, 382. — Livy, 382. 

Chapter IV. — Age of Decline. 

(Pages 388-428.) 

Silver Age of Roman Letters, 388. — Velleius Paterculus, 389. — Valerius Maxi- 
mus, 389. — Celsus, 390.— Phaedrus, 390. — Persius, 392. — Seneca, 394. — Lucan, 397. 
—Pliny the Elder, 401.— Martial, 404.— Statius, 405.— Sulpitia, 406.— Quintilian, 
407. — Juvenal, 408. — Tacitus, 412. — Suetonius, 415.— Pliny the Younger. 418.— 
Apuleius, 420. — Latin Fathers, 421. — Specimens of Later Latin Poetry, 423.— 
Gems of Latin Thought, 425. 


HISTORY OF ANCIENT LITERATURE. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Literature, in its broadest sense, comprises the written 
productions of all nations in all ages. It is the permanent 
expression of the intellectual power of man, and reflects the 
popular manners, the political condition, the moral and relig- 
ious status. In its literary productions, a nation bequeaths 
to posterity an ever-speaking record of its inner life. 

The history of literature traces the progress of the human 
mind from age to age, by landmarks erected by the mind it- 
self. It represents the development of different phases of 
thought in written language, and shows their influence in 
moulding the public taste and morals. It investigates the 
connection between the literatures of different countries, con- 
siders the causes of their growth and their decay, and criti- 
cally examines the works of individual authors. 

Literature may be divided into two parts. Ancient and 
Modern. The former, to which this volume is devoted, in- 
cludes the literatures of the ancient Oriental nations, the 
Greeks, and the Romans. To the second division belong 
the literatures of modern Europe, of the modern Oriental 
nations, and of America. 

After considering the origin and relationship of languages, 
A 2 


12 


INTRODUCTION. 


we shall give a brief summary of the history of ancient lit' 
erature as a whole, without national divisions ; so that the 
reader, having previously followed the progress of letters 
from age to age and people to people, may be enabled to 
study more intelligently the separate literatures of the dif- 
ferent countries. 

ORIGIN AND RELATIONSHIP OF LANGUAGES. 

The Dawn of History. — When the mist that envelops the 
early history of the world first rises, it discovers to our view, 
in parts of western Asia, communities more or less advanced 
in knowledge and the arts, gathered about certain centres of 
civilization ; and others, of less culture, leading a wandering 
life, spent mostly, we may conjecture, in the chase, in preda- 
tory excursions, and the tending of herds. We find at this 
time a thrifty race, called Aryans {aryanz\ settled in the dis- 
trict between the Hindoo Koosh Mountains and the upper 
course of the Amoo — the ancient Bactria (part of what is 
now Turkestan and Afghanistan; see Map, p. 15). The re- 
gion watered by the rivers Euphrates and Tigris was occu- 
pied by the forefathers of the Chaldeans and Assyrians, the 
Jews and Arabians ; while over the plains of Tartary, known 
as Tufan, wandering tribes were spread — whence their name, 
Turanians, swift horsemen. Corresponding with these three 
divisions of the human race are three distinct families of 
languages, — the Aryan or Indo-European, the Semitic, 
and the Turanian, — embracing more than one hundred and 
fifty tongues. {See Rawlinson's ** The Origin of Nations.'') 

In Africa, also, civilization was a plant of early growth, Egypt 
ranking among the most ancient monarchies. Europe, how- 
ever, in these primeval ages, was either a tenantless wilderness 
or the home of rude adventurers like the Lapps and Finns, of 
whom the Basques in the Pyrenees are perhaps the only reni' 
nants in the west. 


RELATIONSHIP OF LANGUAGES. 


13 


THE ARYANS. 

The Aryans have left no account of themselves sculptured 
on rocks or the walls of crumbling temples ; but by careful 
study of the languages of Aryan origin we obtain, after the 
lapse of four thousand years, a glimpse of the social condition 
of those who spoke the mother-tongue among the mountains 
of Bactria. We infer that nouns similar in the various de- 
rived languages, — as father {protector)^ brother {helper)^ house, 
door, walls, boat, grain, etc., — are the names of objects or no- 
tions familiar to the original family.* Thus utilizing language 
as a key to what would otherwise be locked up in the unknown 
past, we learn that the inhabitants of the fertile Bactrian val- 
leys were devoted to agricultural pursuits. Tilling the ground 
was an honorable employment, the very name Aryan signify- 
ing high-born, noble. We have pictured to us law-abiding com- 
munities, grouped together in towns, ruled by chiefs and a 
king, recognizing family ties, entertaining exalted conceptions 
of woman, and a solemn regard for the marriage bond — the 
latter always a mark of high civilization. 

Language also tells us that this interesting people preferred 
the arts of peace to war. With the dog for his companion, the 
shepherd folded his flocks of sheep ; with the horse and ox 
for his servants, the landholder broke the soil with a plough 
of bronze. Pigs and fowls were raised ; cattle formed the 
chief wealth ; and the cows were milked by the daughter of 
the household — this name meaning milk-maid. 

The Aryan drove from village to village in his wheeled car- 


* A thousand words have thus been traced through the sister languages of 
Aryan birth — a number certainly adequate to the wants of primitive man, when 
we remember that of more than 120,000 words which constitute our present vo- 
cabulary but 3,000 are in common use. The Old Testament was translated with 
the hefp of only 5,642 English words. While Shakespeare’s genius required 
21,000 words for its expression, Milton’s epic employs less than half that number. 


14 


INTRODUCTION. 


riage, over well-constructed roads ; worked the metals ; plied 
the loom ; moulded clay into pottery ; and even navigated 
the neighboring waters in boats propelled by oars. He gave 
names to numbers as far as one hundred, was familiar with 
the principles of decimals, and took the moon for his guide in 
dividing the year into months. 

A Supreme Being was worshipped in Bactria, the Great 
Unseen, the Creator and Governor of the world. In the ref- 
erence to him of controversies that were difficult to settle, we 
trace the origin of the later trial by ordeal. Even some of 
our commonest stories are derived from fables current at 
least two thousand years B.C. in ancient Arya. 

Aryan Migrations. — Few in number at first, the Aryans 
long lived peaceably together. But as the population grew 
denser, great bodies, either compelled to search for food in 
other lands or moved by a thirst for exploration, broke away 
at different periods from the cradle of their race, in quest of 
new abodes. 

Among these emigrants were Teutonic, Lithuanian, and 
Slavonian hordes, who pushed to the northwest, and became 
the ancestors of the Scandinavian and German nations, the 
Letts, Russians, and Poles. The Celts and Graeco - Italic 
tribes, probably passing between the Caspian Sea and the 
Black, made their way by different routes into the fertile re- 
gions of southern and southwestern Europe. The Slavs, Teu- 
tons, and Celts, appear to have dispossessed an indigenous 
population of supposed Turanian origin.* Of the Aryans who 
migrated to the northwest. Max Muller says that they “ have 
been the prominent actors in the great drama of history, and 
have carried to their fullest growth all the elements of active 

* In common with the Celts, the North American Indians, Chinese, Egyptians, 
and other ancient nations, cherished a tradition that they had supplanted an orig- 
inal population — the children of the soil — of low intellectual powers, feeders on 
roots, hole-dwellers, serpent-eaters. 


ARYAN MIGRATIONS. 


15 


life with which our nature is endowed. They have perfected 
society and morals. They have become, after struggles with 
Semitic and Turanian races, the rulers of history; and it seems 
to be their mission to link all parts of the world together by 
the chains of civilization, commerce, and religion.” 



After the last emigration of Aryans to the west, the parent 
community extended its settlements southward into the Table- 
land of Iran {erahn) (modern Persia, Afghanistan, and Beloo- 
chistan ; see Map), and finally, in consequence of a religious 
difference, separated into two great branches. One remained 
on the Iranian plateau, and was ultimately known in history 
as the Medes and Persians. The other made its way through 


16 


INTRODUCTION. 


the mountain-passes, crossed the upper Indus (at some uncer- 
tain date, between 2000 and 1400 B.C.), and in time effected 
the conquest of the rich peninsula of Hindostan. The invad- 
ers were the “ fair-complexioned ” Indo- Aryans, who spoke the 
polished Sanscrit, and among whom sprung up the institution 
of caste and many gross superstitions. 

Aryan Languages. — Similarity in the words and grammati- 
cal structure of their languages proves that the Hindoos, the 
Persians, the Greeks and Romans, the Celtic races, the Sla- 
vonian and Teutonic nations, — all had a common origin ; that 
the frozen Icelander and Indian fire-worshipper, the outcast 
Gypsy and the plaided Highlander, the English master and 
his Cooley servant, are brothers of the same stock. Their 
tongues have been derived from the same parent — a language 
full of poetic grandeur, older than Greek or Sanscrit, and con- 
taining the germs of both — a language which has perished. 

Spoken as we have seen from India to the west of Europe, 
these tongues have been called Indo-European. They em- 
brace the dialects of India and Persia ; the Welsh, and the 
Celtic of Scotland and Ireland ; the Latin and its derivatives, 
the Romance languages, viz., Italian, Spanish, French, etc. ; 
Greek ; Russian and Polish ; English, German, Danish, and 
Swedish (see diagram preceding the title-page). 

Some philologists hold that the primitive home of the Indo- 
European race cannot be determined, and incline to the opin- 
ion that the Asiatic representatives of the family emigrated 
from Europe into Asia. {Consult Brugman^s ’‘^Elements of the 
Comparative Grammar of the Indo- Germanic Languages f p. 2.) 

THE SEMITES. 

The Semitic Languages, in like manner, may all be traced 
to a common source. To this group belong the Syriac, the 
Hebrew, the Arabic, the Ethiopic, the ancient Phoenician, and 
the Carthaginian ; while the cuneiform inscriptions of Bab- 


SEMITES AND TURANIANS. 


17 


ylonia and Assyria are the written characters of a Semitic 
tongue common to those countries. (See Chart, p. 85.) 

Philology has not followed the Semites to a home as limited 
as that of the Aryans ; though tradition points to Armenia as 
their early domicile, ethnological science to Arabia or Africa. 
It declares, however, the Semitic and the Aryan to be distinct 
forms of speech, perhaps branches of a common stem, but 
neither derivable from the other. 

THE TURANIANS. 

Turanian Dialects. — Here there is slighter evidence of rela- 
tionship. The Turanian languages, though they seem to be 
members of the same original family, differ widely; for those 
who spoke them were nomads, wanderers over the globe, 
whose customs, laws, and dialects were modified with every 
change of habitation and condition. To this sporadic group 
belong the Mongolian tongues, the Turkish, Finnic, and Hun- 
garian, together with certain Polynesian dialects ; but the 
Chinese, Japanese, Australian, North American Indian, South 
African, and many others of the nine hundred languages 
spoken on the earth, bear hardly enough resemblance to 
these to be classed in the same family. 

SYSTEMS OF WRITING. 

Language is either spoken or written. Spoken language 
we find to have been used as a medium of communication be- 
tween men in the earliest periods to which history carries us 
back. It is the expression of reason, and as such constitutes 
a line of demarcation between man and the lower animals. 
Without it, indeed, the brute can, to a certain extent, make 
known his emotions and desires. The house-dog, by the dis- 
tinctive character of his bark, welcomes his master or threat- 
ens the intrusive stranger. The hen warns her chicks of dan- 
ger by one set of signals, and calls them to feed by another. 


18 


INTRODUCTION. 


The ant, discovering an inviting grain too heavy for itself 
alone, bears the intelligence to its fellows and promptly returns 
with aid. But such limited means of communication fall infi- 
nitely short of the perfect system which is exclusively man’s 
birthright — which uses articulate sounds to represent ideas, 
and combines them so as to express every shade of thought. 

Written Language. — Spoken Language lives only for the 
moment; words uttered to-day die and are forgotten to-mor- 
row. To give permanency to his passing thoughts, when ad- 
vancing civilization showed such permanency to be desirable, 
man devised Writing, the art of representing ideas by visible 
characters. Written Language is the vehicle of literature — 
the material in which the thinker embodies his conceptions 
for future generations, just as the sculptor gives permanent 
forms to his ideals in marble, or the painter on the glowing 
canvas. 

Writing is either Ideographic or Phonetic. The Ideo- 
graphic System represents material objects directly, by pict- 
ures or symbols. The Phonetic System uses certain charac- 
ters to express the articulate sounds by which such objects 
or notions are denoted, and thus indirectly, through the two 
media of sounds and characters, indicates the objects or no- 
tions themselves. 

Ideographic Writing. — It has long been contended that 
the earliest method of conveying ideas was by means of pic- 
torial images, and there is no reason for disputing such a 
theory. But this is not written language ; it is mere thought- 
painting, or the representation of objects and actions by pict^ 
ures, and may satisfy the wants of primitive races in convey^ 
ing a limited amount of information. Thus the American 
Indians informed one another of the presence and movements 
of troops, or of engagements that had taken place, by means 
of pictures. The emblems employed were generally under- 
stood among the different tribes: e. g., a tree with human legs 


SYSTEMS OF WRITING. 


19 


Stood for a botanist ; and the figure of a man with two bars 
on the stomach and four across the legs, was a prescription 
ordering abstinence from food for two days, and rest for four. 
The original characters of the Egyptians and Chinese, of the 
cuneiform systems, and of the Aztecs, were, in like manner, 
mere pictures^ and nothing more. 

The test of a written language is its ability to express ab- 
stract thoughts by single signs or combinations of signs ; in 
this direction, rude symbols are found utterly wanting. It 
may be that picture-drawing gave the first impulse to the in- 
vention of phonetic writing; yet the origin of such writing, 
with its gradual development, is as hidden from us as that of 
language itself. We are justified, however, in assuming that 
wherever we have history, we have also written language. 

Phonetic Writing. — There are two systems of' phonetic 
writing, the Syllabic and the Alphabetic. The characters of 
the former are used to represent syllables^ or combinations of 
sounds (either words or parts of words) uttered by distinct im- 
pulses of the voice ; those of the latter represent the elements 
of which these syllables are composed, or letters. History in- 
dicates that written language is always phonetic. In Egypt 
it is both syllabic and alphabetic ; in Babylon, syllabic alone. 

The characters by which the elementary sounds of any lan- 
guage are denoted, arranged in order, constitute its Alphabet. 
A perfect alphabet would be one in which every letter repre- 
sented but one simple sound, and every simple sound was 
represented by but one letter — a perfection never yet attained. 

It is to the Egyptians that the world is indebted for Alpha- 
betic Writing. Their hieroglyphics were partly alphabetic, 
partly syllabic, and partly determinative, the latter, in the 
course of centuries, becoming word-signs or ideograms (see 
p. 1 20). From a modification of their alphabet employed by 
them in transliterating Semitic words and names, the Phoeni- 
cian alphabet was derived. This modified alphabet, including 


20 


INTRODUCTION. 


several syllabic signs, consisted of about thirty characters. It 
has been conjectured that Phoenicians, dwelling or trading in 
Egypt, saw the advantage of written language, and employed 
this transliteration alphabet to write their own tongue. All 
the modifications introduced by them are graphic in nature, 
and designed to simplify the original characters. It is fur- 
ther important to note that the Phoenician alphabet is not 
derived from the hieroglyphics, but from the second form of 
the hieratic (see p. 122, and table, p. 87, where the theory is 
illustrated). The Hittite hieroglyphics (p. 114) may be de- 
rived from the Egyptian ; but other ancient Oriental alphabets, 
as the Babylonian, the Chinese, and perhaps the Sanscrit, 
were possibly independently invented and developed. 

Such is the most probable account of the origin of letters. 
Tradition variously ascribes their invention to Thoth, an 
Egyptian god, to Cadmus of Phoenicia, to Odin the supreme 
deity of the Scandinavians, and to others. Of the varied ex- 
ports of the Phoenicians, their alphabet was the most precious. 
Wherever their sails were spread, their letters were made 
known, and all nations sooner or later profited by this great 
Semitic invention. In the table on page 87 may be traced 
a decided resemblance between several of the Phoenician 
characters and the hieroglyphics in which they originated; 
also the successive changes by which they were modified in 
the earlier and later Greek and Latin letters — whence most 
of our English capitals. {See Taylor’s “ The Alphabet.”) 

Modes of Writing and Pointing.— As regards the direction 
in which their writing ran, ancient nations differed. In the 
Egyptian hieroglyphics there was no established order; but 
the figures of men and animals, facing the beginning of the 
lines, often gave a clue to the direction in which they were 
meant to be read. As a general rule, the Indo-Europeans 
wrote from left to right, the Semites from right to left. The 
Laws of Solon and other Greek writings of that period (about 


MODES OF PUNCTUATING. 


21 


600 B.C.) appeared in lines running alternately from right to 
left and from left to right, as an ox walks in ploughing ; this 
“ox-turning system” {boustrophedon)^ however, was soon fol- 
lowed by our present method. The Chinese, Japanese, and 
Mongols, wrote in columns, which were read from the top 
of the page, and from right to left. In the ancient Mexican 
pictographs, similar columns were read from the bottom. 

The ancients did not separate sentences, or their subdi- 
visions, with points ; but wrote their words together, leaving 
the meaning to be deciphered from the context. Rings, ovals, 
or squares, were sometimes drawn around proper names, and 
words were occasionally separated by some device — a diag- 
onal bar or wedge ^ , as in ancient Persian inscriptions ; or 
a letter placed on its side, as between the following words: 
CONJUGIHKARISSIMAE. In a Roman inscription found 
near Bath, England, a small v occurs after every word : 
JULIUSvVITALISvFABRI. A peculiar sign was used, 
in some cases, immediately before the name of a god or of 
a person. 

In the third century B.C., a system of punctuation, devised 
by Aristophanes, a grammarian of Alexandria, became known 
to the Greeks. It employed a dot (.), which had the force of 
our period, colon, or comma, according as it was placed after 
the top, middle, or bottom of the final word. The better sys- 
tem of modern times was not invented till the sixteenth cen- 
tury. 

ANCIENT WRITING MATERIALS. 

Stylus and Tablets. — The first writing was done on rocks 
with sharp-pointed instruments of iron or bronze, to record 
great events. Next came tracings on bricks of soft clay, af- 
terward sun-dried or baked ; and then writing with a metal 
or ivory stylus on sheets of lead or layers of wax, from which 
erasures could be made, if needful, with the flattened end of 
the instrument. 


22 


INTRODUCTION. 


Pliny speaks of leaden sheets, thus inscribed, rolled up in a 
cylindrical form when not in use. But under provocation the 
metallic stylus could be employed as a dagger; and when a 
Roman schoolmaster was killed by his pupils with their styles 
and heavy table-books, the dangerous instrument was ban- 
ished, and superseded by a similar one of horn. The early 
shepherds, we are told, imitated this mode of writing, making 
thorns or awls do duty as styles, and scratching their songs 
on leather straps which they wound round their crooks. 

Wooden tablets, glazed to receive coloring matter, were 
used by the Jews and early Egyptians, and the former wrote 
also with a diamond-tipped stylus on stone or metallic tables. 
The Greeks and Romans sometimes wired their tablets of 
citron-wood, beech, or fir, together at the back, so as to allow 
them to open like a modern book. 

Calamus, or Reed. — A great advance was made when the 
stylus gave way to camel’s -hair brushes or reeds {calami) 
sharpened and split like our pens, and the -tablets were re- 
placed with papyrus and parchment. The reeds in common 
use came from Egypt, but persons of fortune often wrote with 
a silver calamus. The ink employed was thicker and more 
lasting than ours; sometimes prepared from the black fluid 
of the cuttle-fish, but generally from lampblack and glue, or 
from soot, rosin, and pitch. — Chalk pencils were at one time 
manufactured by the Egyptians and Greeks. 

With the reed and ink, bark came into use as a cheap 
writing material ; hence the Latin word for bark, liher^ meant 
also book. Leaves, too, were employed for this purpose, par- 
ticularly those of the palm — whence, perhaps, the leaf of a 
book was so called. But for manuscripts designed for per- 
manent preservation, papyrus had the decided preference. 

Papyrus, or the paper-^X^caK^ the bulrush of Scripture, grew 
in the marshes and pools of Egypt. Its branchless stem 
rose from five to ten feet above the water, and was sur- 


PAPYRUS AND PARCHMENT. 


23 


mounted by a cluster of long, spike-shaped, drooping leaves. 
This plant was woven 
into sandals, mats, cloth- 
ing, and even boats ; was 
eaten, raw and boiled ; 
was manufactured into 
furniture ; and was burn- 
ed for fuel and light ; 
when prepared for writ- 
ing prurposes, it was in- 
valuable. The part un- 
der the water was se- 
lected, the outer bark 
removed, and the deli- 
cate white layers found 
beneath were pressed to- 
gether into sheets and 
dried. These were writ- 
ten on with red and black ink, and some of them were 
elaborately ornamented with many-colored figures. 

The finest papyrus was reserved for the priests, and never 
exported till they had used it. But the Romans, having in- 
vented a process for removing what was first written on it, 
imported it in large quantities ; they also attempted its cul- 
tivation in the marshes of the Tiber, but without success. 
The Greeks did not use it extensively until the era of the 
Ptolemies. 

Parchment was prepared from the skins of sheep and 
goats by polishing them with pumice - stone and then rub- 
bing in fragrant oil. Its name, in Latin pergamena^ would 
seem to indicate Pergamus in western Asia as the place of 
its origin ; but centuries before that little kingdom became 
celebrated for its library of parchment volumes, this material, 
or something very like it, was known. Herodotus mentions 



24 


INTRODUCTION. 


its use in his time ; and the Jews, as a pastoral people fa- 
miliar with the art of dressing skins, wrote their first books 
on a kind of leather. 

But if parchment was not invented at Pergamus, Eu'menes, 
king of that country, was certainly the first to make exten- 
sive use of it (175 B.C.). He had founded a splendid li- 





Reaping a Volumen, ob Roll. 

brary, which he determined should eclipse that of Alexandria. 
In the reign of Ptolemy Epiph'anes, king of Egypt, it was 
sought to prevent the transcription of books for the rival 
library by prohibiting the exportation of papyrus. This 
obliged Eumenes to resort to parchment as a substitute. 
From Peigamus it spread to Europe, finally superseding all 



ANCIENT MANUSCEIPTS. 


25 


Other materials, and continuing in demand until the art of 
making paper cheaply from rags was invented toward the 
close of the Middle Ages. 

Ancient manuscripts were put up in the form of rolls 
(vo/u'mtria — whence volumes)^ made of sheets fastened to- 
gether in a continuous strip, sometimes forty or fifty yards 
in length. This was wound round wooden cylinders, the 
ends of which were often set with jewels, or ornamented with 
knobs of ivory, silver, or gold. Titles were either suspended 
from these books like tags, or glued upon them as labels. 
An outside cover of parchment protected the scrolls, which, 
enclosed in cylindrical cases and placed horizontally on 
shelves ranged about a room, constituted an ancient library. 

The Chinese, after writing for centuries, in common with 
their neighbors of India, on bark and dried palm-leaves, are 
believed to have discovered a process of preparing a pulp 
from cotton or bamboo, and to have manufactured it into 
paper as early as the commencement of our era. Perhaps, 
as observation of the silkworm spinning her cocoons led 
them to devise the art of weaving silk, they in like manner 
borrowed his cunning from the paper-making wasp, and thus 
early perfected an invention which has been of incalculable 
service to literature. 

GENERAL VIEW OF THE HISTORY OF ANCIENT 
LITERATURE. 

A comprehensive glance over the entire field whose treas- 
ures we are about to examine in detail, will enable us the 
better to appreciate and remember their relative age and 
value. Beginning, then, with the most distant periods, we 
find a literature developed in Mesopota'mia, Egypt, Iran, and 
China, even before 2000 B.C. At that date, the valley of the 
Euphrates and Tigris was the seat of a civilized Turanian 
people, the inventors of the complex system of cuneiform 


26 


INTRODUCTION. 


writing, thought by some to be the oldest in the world. 
These Turanian Chaldees, mingled with a Semitic race, were 
then beginning to enjoy their golden age of letters; at the 
same time, the ancient Persians and Hindoos were compos- 
ing hymns ; the sages of China were busy on their sacred 
books; and Egypt had made considerable advance in both 
poetry and prose. 

To trace the progress of literature in these remote times 
from century to century is impossible. Five hundred years, 
however, bring us to the Augustan era of romance and satire, 
epic and devotional poetry, in Egypt : they introduce us to 
Zoroas'ter, the founder or reformer of the ancient Persian 
religion, whose teachings are set forth in the Aves'ta ; to the 
Ve'da, or Brahman Bible ; to Moses and the Pentateuch ; 
and to Phoenician theology, science, and poetry. Meanwhile 
Chaldean literature declines, and Assyrian letters come into 
view. During the next five centuries, poetry and science 
continue to flourish in Egypt, though not perhaps with their 
pristine vigor ; Phoenicia maintains her literary reputation ; 
the Veda grows; and Persian priests are occupied in en- 
larging and modifying their sacred texts. 

looo B.C. was the era of great epics. The epic, or nar- 
rative poem, based on some important event (in Greek, tTrog) 
or chain of events, though first appearing in Egypt, was 
brought to perfection, about this time, by the Greeks, and 
some say by the Hindoos also, Aryan nations holding no in- 
tercourse with each other. Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey were 
paralleled by two stupendous Indian poems, the Ramayana 
{rah-maJi! -yd-na) and the Mahabharata {md-hah' baJi! rd-td).^ 
To these, all dazzling with Oriental splendor, the epics of the 
Greek bard may yield in luxuriance of fancy and gorgeous 
imagery; but in power of description, sublimity of thought, 

* Some regard the Hindoo epics as belonging to a much later period. It is prob- 
able that the present versions are essential modifications of the original forms. 


GENERAL VIEW OF ANCIENT LITERATURE. 


27 


and attractive simplicity of expression, Homer was without 
an equal. 

While, then, the Semitic nations as a rule employed prose 
as the vehicle of their earliest records of events, Greece and 
India, types of the Aryan stock, transmitted their legends 
to posterity in epic verse. Later times have not failed to per- 
petuate the taste, and measurably the ability ; epic poetry has 
been cultivated by all the Indo-European nations, and to them 
it has been confined. — Contemporaneously with Homer, native 
poets were inditing ballads and pastorals in China, and the 
Hebrews enjoyed their golden age of secular and religious 
poetry ; Egypt had entered on her literary, as well as her po- 
litical, decline. 

Henceforth our interest centres principally in Greece. Un- 
til 800 B.C., the poems of Homer and of Hesiod, his contem- 
porary or immediate successor, constituted the bulk of Hel- 
lenic literature. Then began a transition to a poetry more 
natural — a poetry of the emotions — on themes that kindled 
love, anger, hatred, grief, hope ; and for three centuries /jyr/a 
in different forms echoed throughout the land. Archilochus 
poured forth his caustic satires ; Tyrtaeus, his inspiriting war- 
songs ; Sappho, her passionate strains; Anacreon, the joys of 
the wine-cup; Simon'ides breathed his touching laments; and 
Pindar stirred the soul with his grand odes, as with the sound 
of the trumpet. Prose also received attention, and Ionian 
authors took the initiative in systematic historical composition. 
Rude religious festivals suggested dramatic representations ; 
and the pioneers in tragedy and comedy rode about the 
country, exhibiting their novel art on carts which carried 
the performers and their machinery. — Meanwhile in the 
East, Assyrian literature reached its highest development 
at Nineveh, to be buried beneath the ruins of that city, 
625 B.C. Letters then revived at Babylon, and for nearly a 
century flourished there ; Jewish poetry declined ; and Com 


28 


INTRODUCTION. 


fucius, the philosopher of transcendent wisdom, appeared in 
China. 

Early in the 5th century, Greece plunged into a struggle for 
life or death with the Persian Empire — a struggle from which 
she emerged covered with glory, united and free. Her tri- 
umph is straightway sung in immortal verse, and historians 
arise to record her exploits. Athens, who faced the enemy at 
Marathon, Salamis, and Plataea, and drove him back crippled 
and disgraced to Asia, now becomes the leader of grateful 
Hellas, and the centre of literature and refinement. Blossom 
after blossom unfolds in her genial clime. She makes ample 
amends for her barrenness in the past by unprecedented fruit- 
fulness, and gives to the nations a drama, lustrous with the 
names of ^schylus, Sophocles, Euripides {es'ke-lus^ sofo-kleez, 
eu-rip' e-deez ) — the great tragic trio of antiquity. Comedy also, 
as represented by Aristophanes, is perfected in her theatre. 

Then come the Peloponnesian War and the consequent hu- 
miliation of Athens ; the overthrow of her democratic govern- 
ment, and the partial decline of literature, particularly poetry, 
with the fall of free institutions. Still, writers of genius are 
not wanting. The graphic pens of Thucydides and Xenophon 
lend additional graces to the history of Greece; Plato and 
Aristotle make her name immortal in philosophy ; and the 
world’s greatest orators electrify her assemblies with their elo- 
quence. Demosthenes, prince of them all, stands forth as the 
champion of Grecian liberty, and thunders his Philippics at the 
wily Macedonian who would enthrall his country. But the 
star of Macedon was in the ascendant. Chaerone'a decided 
the fate of Greece ; and she who had withstood the legions 
of Xerxes, gave way before the invincible phalanx of Philip 
and Alexander. 

A sad period of decadence followed. Alexandria, in Egypt, 
founded by the conqueror whose name it bore (332 B.C.), be- 
came the centre of learning as well as commerce ; and Athens 


GENERAL VIEW OF ANCIENT LITERATURE. 


29 


yielded to her fate, wasting her time in empty philosophical 
discussions and the pursuit of pleasure. Poetry languished, 
yet flashed out occasionally in epic or didactic form, bringing 
to mind the glories of the past. It is true that in the idyls of 
Theocritus {little pictures of domestic life) pastoral verse now 
bloomed for the first time on European soil, and with fine ef- 
fect ; but it was in far-off Syracuse, not in classic Greece. 
Here the deepening twilight was fatal to literary growth ; and 
when Egypt fell beneath the power of Rome in the first cen- 
tury B.C., Greek letters sought a new asylum in the city of 
Romulus. 

Turning to Rome, we find that she had long displayed an 
appreciation of Grecian genius as well as a striking talent for 
imitation. About the middle of the third century B.C., with 
little or no literature of her own, she gladly appropriated the 
foreign treasures held up before her admiring e3'es by Liv'ius 
Androni'cus, a Tarentine Greek, whom the fortunes of war had 
made the slave of a Roman master. This most ancient of 
Latin poets put upon the stage versions of the Greek dramas, 
and with his translation of the Odyssey took his captors cap- 
tive. Naevius and Ennius, following in the path thus opened, 
gave Italy its first epics ; Ter'ence and Plautus made the peo- 
ple familiar with the humors of comedy ; and Cato imparted 
dignity to Latin prose. 

Oratory, for which the Romans had a natural aptitude, cul- 
minated in the speeches of Cicero, who ushered in the golden 
age. In his writings, as well as in the histories of Caesar, 
Sallust, and Livy, prose now attracted with its finished periods. 
Nor was poetry less notably represented. Catullus, vehement 
and pathetic by turns, transplanted the ode and epigram to 
Italy ; Lucre'tius threw into verse his ideal of philosophy ; 
Tibullus excelled in simplicity and tenderness ; while Virgil 
and Horace rivalled, as they doubtless imitated, the first poets 
of Greece. 

B 


30 


INTRODUCTION. 


Virgil’s epic, the ^ne'id, as remarkable for beauty as Ho- 
mer’s is for grandeur, secured to its author the first place 
among Latin poets ; and next to him stands Horace, with his 
faultless mastery of metre and keen observation of men and 
manners. Their genius shed on the court of the first empe- 
ror, Augustus, a peculiar lustre, still recognized in our appli- 
cation of the epithet Augustan to the most brilliant period of 
a nation’s literature. 

It is not strange that under the tyranny of the Caesars liter- 
ary decay set in ; yet Rome’s silver age was kept bright by 
the labors of Persius and Juvenal, the unsparing satirists; 
Lucan, author of the epic Pharsalia; the grave and accu- 
rate historian Tacitus; the two Plinies ; and Quintilian, the 
rhetorician. Taste, however, had sadly deteriorated ; genius 
died with patriotism ; and despots sought in vain to restore 
for their own corrupt purposes the ancient spirit which they 
had crushed out. At length the degenerate Latin writers laid 
aside their own manly tongue for Greek ; and the list of the 
monuments of Roman genius was complete. 

Such has been, in general, the course of every literature. 
We trace successively the birth of poetry; the gradual per- 
fecting of prose; the ripening of simplicity into elegance; 
the perversion of elegance into affectation ; the language and 
literature, losing the vigor of manhood, affected with the 
feebleness of age, and either succumbing at once to some 
great civil convulsion or perishing by a slow but no less 
certain living death. As with political, so with literary 
history : — 

“ This is the moral of all human tales ; 

Tis hut the same rehearsal of the past, — n. 

First freedom, and then glorj^ ; when that fails, ) 
Wealth, vice, corruption, barbarism at last ; / 

And History, with all its volumes vast, / 

Hath but one page.” / 

Byron. 


PART 1. 


ANCIENT ORIENTAL LITERATURES. 


CHAPTER I. 

HINDOO LITERATURE, 

THE SANSCRIT LANGUAGE. 

Characteristics. — Oldest of all the Indo-European tongues, 
and most closely resembling the common parent that is lost, 
is Sanscrit — the language spoken by those fair-skinned Ary- 
ans who more than thirty centuries ago, swarming through the 
Hindoo Koosh passes, made the sunny plains of Hindostan 
their own (page i6). Sanscrit spread over most of the penin- 
sula ; and the meaning of the perfected^ is significant of 
the flexibility, refinement, regularity, and philosophical system 
of grammar, by which the language was distinguished. In 
luxuriance of inflection it was unequalled. Its nouns’ were 
varied according to eight cases, and three numbers (singular, 
dual, and plural) ; and its verbs, which assumed causal, desid' 
erative, and frequentative forms, were carried in conjugation 
through three voices, the active, middle, and passive. Its 
chief fault — a result of its very richness — lay in the frequent 
use of long compounds, particularly adjectives, presenting what 
seems to us a confused combination of ideas, sometimes ludi- 
crously lengthened out ; as in the expressions, “ always-to-be- 
remembered-with-reverence patriot,” “water-play- delighted- 


32 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 



maiden-bathing-fragrant river-breezes” (that is, river-breezes 
made fragrant by the bathing of maidens delighted with sporting 
in the water). {Consult Dr. Ferry's Sanscrit Primer.") 

Neither the parallelism of Hebrew poetry (page 89) nor the 
rhyme of modern times finds a place in Sanscrit verse ; it is 
distinguished from prose, like Greek poetry, simply by a met- 
rical arrangement of long and short syllables. The measured 
cadence gave great delight to the cultivated ear of the Hin- 
doos. “ There are two 
excellent things in the 
world,” sa3^s one of their 
writers — “the friendship 
of the good, and the beau- 
ties of poetry.” 

Sanscrit is now a dead 
language. About three 
hundred years before the 
Christian era, dialects sim- 
ilarly derived took itsplace 
among the people, and it 
has since been kept alive 
only in the conversation 
and writings of the learn- 
ed, as the sacred language 
of the Brahmans, or priest- 
ly caste.* Yet so exten- 
sive is its literature that it costs a Brahman half his life to 
master a portion of its sacred books alone. 

Sanscrit Alphabet. — As to the origin of the Sanscrit alpha- 
bet, consisting of fifty letters, history is silent. It is believed 
that the entire early literature was preserved for centuries by 


Brahman Priest. 


* The language of the Gypsies, descendants of those Hindoos who fled from 
the persecutions of Tamerlane, is a corrupted Vedic dialect. 


EARLY RESEARCHES. 


33 


•oral repetition. When their polished tongue was first ex- 
pressed in written characters — derived from the Phoenicians 
or independently invented^ — so perfectly did these answer the 
purpose that the Hindoos styled their alphabet “the writing 
of the gods.” The Sanscrit letters are still preserved in the 
written language of the pure Hindoos, but in that of the Mo- 
hammedan population have been replaced with the Arabic 
characters. 

History of Sanscrit Researches. — Arabian translations of 
Sanscrit works were made as early as the reign of the Caliph 
Haroun'-al-Raschid, at Bagdad (800 A.D.), and appeared from 
time to time in the succeeding centuries. Europeans first 
knew of the existence of Sanscrit and its literature during the 
reign of Au'rungzebe (1658-1707), in whose time the French 
and English obtained a foothold in Hindostan. Before this, 
the Jesuit Nobili {nobe-le) had gone to India to study the sa- 
cred books with a view to the conversion of the Hindoos, and, 
having mastered them, boldly preached a new Veda; but he 
died on the scene of his labors, and Europe profited nothing 
by his researches. It was left for the Asiatic Society, organ- 
ized at Calcutta in 1784 by Sir William Jones, to open the 
eyes of Europe to the importance and magnitude of Brahman 
literature, of which the translation of Sakoon'tala (page 50) by 
this great orientalist gave a most favorable specimen. 

Following in the footsteps of the English scholar just men- 
tioned, the German critic Schlegel, in his “ Language and Wis- 
dom of the Indians ” (1808) laid the permanent foundations of 
Comparative Philology, a science of recent birth but one 
that has been of incalculable service to history, establishing 
the kinship of the Hindoos and Persians with the old Greeks 
and Romans, as well as the modern nations of the west, by 
striking resemblances in their respective tongues. Eminent 
scholars have since prosecuted the work with enthusiasm — 
especially Bopp, Humboldt, Pott, and Grimm among the Ger- 


34 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


mans, the French savant Bournouf, Max Muller in England, 
and the American Whitney. Sanscrit is no longer a sealed 
volume. The leading European universities have their pro- 
fessors of that tongue, who lecture also on comparative gram- 
mar. (See Whitneys article on Philology, Enc. Brit. V. xviii.) 

SACRED LITERATURE OP THE HINDOOS. 

The Veda. — The language of the ancient Indo-Aryans sur- 
vives in the Ve'da, the oldest work of Indo-European litera- 
ture, dating back to the prehistoric era of the Aryan race. 
The Veda, while rich in striking imagery, is marked by a 
beautiful simplicity of diction. In its language, we behold the 
most ancient form of our own tongue; in the hymns of its 
poets, those germs of Aryan intellectual development that no 
long time after bloomed in epic and idyl through the fertile 
valleys of India, bore immortal fruit on the soil of Greece and 
Rome, and have been brought to perfection in the grand pro- 
ductions of modern genius. (The student is referred to Max 
Muller's Rig- Veda-Sanhita,’' and Dr. Arrow s mitE s Transla- 
tion of Prof. KaegVs Rig- Veda.") 

The word Veda means knowledge. The Mantra, or “song” 
portion of the Veda, is divided into four parts : the Rig-Veda 
(knowledge of the stanzas), or Veda of hymns ; the Sama- 
Veda, of tunes or chants, and the Yajur-Veda, of sacrificial 
rites (prayers) — both purely ritualistic; and the Artharva- 
Veda, in the main a collection of incantations and spells. 
Each of the last-named Vedas is a medley of extracts from 
the Rig-Veda, with additions from outside sources. Thus it 
will be seen that the Hindoos were believers in the efficacy 
of sacrifices, some of which were prolonged for months and 
even years, as well as of talismans, charms, and incantations 
to ward off disease, bring riches, and inspire love. 

To the metrical parts of the Vedas are attached the Brah- 
manas, which abound in tedious descriptions of rites, and 


THE VEDA. 


35 


were written long after in prose to explain the hymns. There 
are also collections of rules for worship and sacrifice ; and 
speculations on philosophy and religion, which display no 
little acuteness, for the Hindoo mind seems to have been 
prone to metaphysical investigation and ingenious in reason- 
ing even to the verge of sophistry. Supplements to the 
Vedas contain abundant commentaries on their grammar and 
language, as well as astronomical facts — the latter mainly 
borrowed from other nations and not based on original re- 
searches or discoveries. Finally, the Upave'das {po-pd-va! ddz 
— appended) treat of diseases and their cure, devotional music, 
the use of weapons, and the arts; while the Puranas {poo- 
rah'fidz), of more recent birth, believed to have been revealed 
from heaven like the Vedas, present in verse the mythology 
of India and the history of its legendary age. 

Religion of the Veda. — The Supreme Being first acknowl- 
edged by the Aryans was gradually lost sight of, and a wor- 
ship of Nature arose. In the 1,028 hymns of the Rig-Veda 
(by several hundred authors, and comprising 10,580 verses), 
“thrice eleven” gods are invoked as intelligent beings, the 
principal of whom are Varuna {vuroo-nah ) — god of waters), 
the sun, the moon, the day, fire, the storm (Indra), the dawn, 
and the earth ; and to “ the three and thirty,” offerings were 
made of cakes, wine, and grain. They were immortal ; clothed 
with power to answer prayer, and punish those who offended 
them. But as each great god is recognized as supreme in 
different hymns, it is with good reason thought that, under 
various, names, one omnipotent Being is worshipped, called in 
the Veda “God above all gods,” “ that One alone who has up- 
held the spheres.” “Wise poets,” says the Rig-Veda, “ make 
the Beautiful-winged, though he is one, manifold by words.”* 

* “He is the only master of the world; he fills heav’eii and earth. He gives 
life and strength : all the other gods seek for his blessing; death and immortal- 
ity are but his shadow. 


36 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


Ih the following hymn to Varuna is apparent the belief 
that evil-doing is hateful to the Almighty, that man is by 
nature prone to sin, and that God stands ready to exercise 
forgiveness. 

HYMN TO VARUNA. 

(We have given Max Muller’s literal translation a dress of verse, the 
better to bring out the effect of the refrain.) 

O Varuna, let me not yet enter the house of clay: 

Mercy, Almighty one, thy mercy I pray ! 

If, like a cloud the sport of winds, I trembling go astray — 

Mercy, Almighty one, thy mercy I pray ! 

Through want of strength, thou strong bright God, I’ve wandered 
from the way : 

Mercy, Almighty one, thy mercy I pray ! 

Thirst comes upon the worshipper, though round the waters play : 

Mercy, Almighty one, thy mercy I pray ! 

When we do wrong through thoughtlessness, thy hand of vengeance 
stay : 

Transgressors of thy righteous law, thy mercy, God, we pray ! 

But of all the conceptions of the Vedic writers, that of the 
Dawn Goddess was the most poetical. Watching for the 
first flush in the eastern sky, her ancient worshippers, with 
their hands devoutly placed upon their foreheads, opened 
their hearts in strains of praise to the gloom - dispelling 
Dawn, the golden-hued Daughter of Heaven, leading on the 
sun with her modest smile, “like a radiant bride adorned by 
her mother for the bridegroom.” 

The sun is represented as a glorious prince, hastening aftev 
the Dawn-maiden and trying to discover her by a tiny slipper 
which she has dropped, and which is too small for another to 
wear ; but the prince never overtakes the flying maid. This 
beautiful myth is the origin of the tale of Cinderella. 

The mountains covered with frost, the ocean with its waves, the vast regions, 
of heaven, proclaim his power. 

By him the heaven and earth, space and the firmament, have been solidly 
founded : he spread abroad the light in the atmosphere. 

Heaven and earth tremble for fear before him. He is God above all gods !" 

Rig -Veda. 


THE VEDIC PEOPLE. 


37 


The Veda contains no allusions to those corrupt practices 
which afterward became the distinguishing marks of Brah- 
manism. At this early period there was no belief in the 
transmigration of the souls of men into inferior animals ; on 
the contrary, the Vedic Aryans looked for “excellent treas- 
ures in the sky.” To caste, they were also strangers ; idols 
were unknown ; and suttee, the burning of the widow at 
her husband’s funeral, was an unheard-of barbarity. 

. Social Life of the Vedic People. — The hymns of the Rig- 
Veda picture the manners and customs of an intellectual 
people, far advanced in the arts. Princely palaces are de- 
scribed, fortified cities, monarchs possessed of fabulous riches, 
ladies elegantly attired. There were poor as well as rich, 
workers in the various handicrafts ; ship-building was prac- 
tised, and naval expeditions were undertaken. Even at this 
remote day literary meetings were held. 

Nor were the crimes and vices of later times unknown. 
Liars are denounced; thieves, robbers, and intoxicating drinks, 
are mentioned ; while in one hymn, a gambler laments bis 
ruin by “ the tumbling dice,” and warns others not to play, 
but rather to practise husbandry. (On the lessons of the Veda, 
see Max Muller’s '‘‘‘India : What can It Teach Us p. 141.) 

The following extract from one of the secular hymns which 
are interspersed with those of a religious character, shows 
some knowledge of human nature : — 

EVERY ONE TO HIS TASTE. 

“Men\s tastes and trades are multifarious. 

And so their ends and aims are various. 

The smith seeks something cracked to mend ; 

Tlie doctor would have sick to tend. 

The priest desires a devotee 
From whom he may extract his fee. 

Each craftsman makes and vends his ware, 

Anf^ hopes the rich man’s gold to share. 

My sire’s a doctor ; I, a bard ; 

Corn grinds my mother, toiling hard. 

B 2 


38 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


All craviug wealth, we each pursue, 

By (liftereut meaus, the end iu view, 

Like people running after cows. 

Which too far off have strayed to browse 
The draught-horse seeks an easy yoke. 

The merry dearly like a joke. 

Of lovers youthful belles are fond. 

And thirsty frogs desire a pond.” — Muir. 

LAW-BOOKS OF THE HINDOOS. 

■ Laws of Manu. — Of the many Indian treatises on the moral 
law still extant, the most important is the Institutes of Manu 
(?nim’oo). Early texts transmit the idea of this venerable law- 
giver, sprung from Brahma in the Vedic period. That the 
code now bearing his name embodies the precepts of so an- 
cient a sage, is doubtful. The laws are written in verse. Four 
distinct castes are recognized, ascending through the succes- 
sive grades of laborers, farmers, warriors, and princes, to the 
highest, which consisted of the priests of Brahma, “ the soul 
of the universe, whom eye, tongue, mind, cannot reach,” from 
whose substance all men proceed and to whom all must re- 
turn through various states of existence. The childlike relig- 
ion of the Veda has disappeared. 

The word brahma often occurs in the Vedas with the sig- 
nification of worship, or hymn, the vehicle of worship. In the 
later Vedic poems it came to mean the universal but imper- 
sonal spiritual principle, all-pervading and self-existent. In 
Manu’s Ordinances, Brahma is endowed with personality, and 
a definite place is assigned him in the national religious sys- 
tem, as the creative spirit who made the universe before un- 
discerned discernible in the beginning. He, as the Creator, 
is united with the three-eyed thousand-named Siva {sevah) 
the Destroyer, and Vishnu the Preserver, in the Hindoo triad. 
Vishnu was the first-begotten of Brahma, a benevolent being 
who, to overcome the .malignant agents of evil, submitted to 
various embodiments in human or animal form, known as 


LAWS OF MANU. 


39 


Av'atars. Nine avatars, W'hich the Hindoos oelieved to have 
taken place, were favorite themes of Sanscrit poetry; the 
tenth, still future, would result in the overthrow of the present 
state of things and the ushering in of a new and better era. 
{Read Hopkins's “ The OrdinaJices of ManuT) 

Moral Precepts. — The Institutes of Manu regulated the 
moral and social life of the people, prescribing certain rules 
for the government of society and the punishment of crimes. 
Purity of life was enjoined on all. One of the chief duties was 
to honor father and mother — the mother a thousand times the 
most — and the Brahman more than either. Widows are forbid- 
den to remarry, and the duties of a wife are thus described : — 

“ The wife must always be iu a cheerful temper, devoting herself 
to the good management of the household, taking great care of the 
furniture, and keeping down all expenses with a frugal hand. The 
husband to whom her father has given her, she must obsequiously 
honor while he lives and never neglect him when he dies. The hus- 
band gives bliss continually to his wife here below, and he will give 
iier happiness in the next world. He must be constantly revered 
as a god by a virtuous wife, even if he does not observe approved 
usages, or is devoid of good qualities. A faithful wife, who wishes 
to attain heaven and dwell there with her husband, must never do 
anything unkind toward him, whether he be living or dead.” 

The following was the punishment for killing a cow, an ani- 
mal treated with the honors due to a deity : — 

“ All day he must wait on a herd of cows, and stand quaffing the 
dust raised by their hoofs. 

Free from passion, he must stand when they stand, follow when 
they move, lie down near them when they lie down. 

By thus waiting on a herd for three months, he who has killed 
a cow atones for his guilt.” 

OTHER EXTRACTS FROM MANU. 

“ Greatness is not conferred by years nor by gray hairs, by wealth 
nor powerful kindred. Whoever has read the Veda, he always is great. 

A Brahman beginning or ending a lecture on the Veda must al- 
ways pronounce to himself the syllable OM*; for unless the syllable 

* The mystical name formed of the three elements A U M, representing the 
three forms of the deity. 


40 


SANSCKIT LITERATURE. 


OM precede his leaniiug will slip away from him, and unless it foh 
low nothing will be long retained. 

When one among all the organs sins, by that single failure all 
knowledge of God passes away ; as the water flows through one hole 
in a leathern bottle. 

The names of women should be agreeable, soft, clear, captivating 
the fancj’^, auspicious, ending in long vowels, resembling words of 
benediction.” 

EPIC POETRY. 

Indian literature boasts of two grand epic poems — gems that 
would shine in the crown of a Homer or a Milton — the Ra- 
mayana {rah-mah! yd-7id — Adventures of Rama) and the Ma- 
habharata (md-ha/t bah' rd-td — Great War of Bharata), “the 
Iliad and Odyssey of Sanscrit poetry.” The date of these 
epics is uncertain. Both contain ancient Vedic traditions, 
but mingled with these is much that is more recent. It is 
probable that the old songs and stories were current among 
the people ages before they were arrayed in their present 
dress by later poets, who gave them a different religious color- 
ing to suit the Brahmanical doctrines. Their language is an 
improvement on that of the Veda in polish and softness ; im- 
provement would naturally result from oral repetition. {See 
Monier Williams'' s '■^Indian Wisdom.”) 

The Ramayana, by the poet Valmiki (vahl' me-ke), relates the 
achievements of Rama (the name assumed by Vishnu in his 
seventh avatar, or incarnation), who descended to earth that 
he might destroy a demon-prince in Ceylon. Rama becomes 
the first-born of the monarch of Oude and heir-apparent to the 
throne, marries a lovely princess, Sita {se'tah), whose hand 
others had vainly sought, and daily increases in popularity. 
But Rama’s mother was not the only queen ; a younger and 
more beautiful rival prevails on the old king to appoint her 
son his successor instead of Rama, and to banish the latter 
for fourteen years. 

Loyal to his father, though he might have seized the crown 
by force, as his mother in her first disappointment bade him 


EPIC POETRY. 


41 


do, Rama set out for the wilderness, accompanied by his 
bride, who refused to remain behind in the luxurious capital. 
Soon after his father died of grief ; whereupon the younger 
brother rejected the crown, and, seeking the exile in the jungle, 
saluted him as king. Rama, however, declined the honor, 
and, proceeding to fulfil his mission, slew the demon and con- 
quered Ceylon. Then with his faithful wife he returned to 
Oude, to reign jointly with his brother and usher in a golden 
age. 

The Ramayana, in this fiction, is supposed to refer to the 
conquest of southern India and Ceylon by the Aryans. It so 
delighted the Hindoos that it was said, “He who sings and 
hears this epic continually has attained to the highest enjoy- 
ment, and will finally be equal to the gods.” 

FROM THE RAMAYANA. 

Sita, informed by her husband of his banishment, thus ten- 
derly pleads to be the companion of his exile : — 

“ I will not be a charge to thee : the wood will give me roots, 

The spring will yield me water, and the branch provide me fruits. 
In hermit’s humble mantle clad, and guarded by my lord, 

I long to wander through the wood, the rivulet to ford. 

To climb the rock, and gaze upon the lake that looks so cool ; 

And oh ! the jileasant bathing in the clear and shaded pool, 

With waters freshly running from the sweet perennial springs, 

All lovely with the lotuses and wild swans’ silver wings. 

I would not live in heaven itself, and thou, my love, away ; 

A thousand years with thee, my love, would seem one blissful day. 
Then take me with thee to the wood, nor leave me here alone : 

I will not be a burthen sore to thee, mine own ! niiue own !” 

But Rama seeks to dissuade her : — 

"^^‘The forest life has fears and woes too many to be told : 

Thirst, hunger, burning heat by day, by night the bitter cold. 

Each moment on some deadly thing the heedless step may fall. 
Where serpents with their venomed fangs and poisonous scorpions 
crawl ; 

There thro’ the day the tiger roams, the panther and the boar, 

And thro’ the night the caverned hills echo the lion’s roar ; 

There many a river deep and wide will bar thine onward way, 


42 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


Where fearful crocodiles amid the foaming waters play. 

The forest paths, my Slta dear, are rough and hard to pass, 

' Tangled with knotted creeping plants, and thorns, and matted 
grass. 

O’er many a league the wild woods stretch, and savage beasts 
abound ; 

No fruit or flower may there be seen, and water scarce is found ; 
No bed is there to rest the limbs, but stretched upon a heap 
Of fallen leaves and gathered grass the homeless w retch must sleep. 
No, such a life is not for thee; cast thou the thought away ; 

Here iu the palace of the king in peace and safety stay. 

Though far away from thee I go, and thou remainest here. 

Still shalt thou live within the heart to which thou art so dear.” 

Yet Sita still refuses to be parted from her husband, and 
with tearful eyes exclaims: — 

“And death to me were sweeter far, with thine arms round me 
thrown. 

Than life in thy father’s palaces, in safety, but alone. 

The wife’s eternal duty is, as holy priests declare. 

To follow where her husband goes, his weal and woe to share ; 

And for the true and loving wife remains the endless bliss 
Of sharing all this life with him, and the life that follows this.” 

But, Rama being still inexorable, Sita- bursts forth in anger, 
upbraids him for his cruelty in deserting her, and finally, over- 
come by emotion, falls weeping at his feet. Then Rama 
raises her in his arms, and pours these soothing accents in 
her ear : — 

“ Oh ^ what is heaven without thee, love ? With thee I’ll live and 
die ; 

Never will Rama stoop to fear, though Brahma’s self come nigh. 
Obedience to my father’s will now sends me to the wood ; 

For paramount of duties this is counted by the good. 

Only to try thy mind, rny love, thy prayer I first denied : 

I never dreamed that auglit could harm the lady by my side ; 

But yet I feared to sufier thee, so delicate and fair. 

The troubles of a forest life and all its woes to share. 

Now, as the glory of his life the saint can ne’er resign. 

Thou too, devoted, brave, and true, shalt follow and be mine.” 

Griffith. 

As a favorable specimen of the florid description in which 
Hindoo imagination excels, we quote from the same epic. 


EPIC POETRY. 


43 


. . THE DESCENT OF THE GANGES. 

*‘From the high heaven burst Ganges forth, first on Siva’s lofty 
crown ; 

Headlong then, and prone to earth, thundering rushed the cataract 
down. 

Swarms of hright-hued fish came dashing ; turtles, dolphins, in their 
mirth. 

Fallen, or falling, glancing, flashing, to the many-gleaming earth ; 

And all the host of heaven came down, sprites and genii in amaze. 

And each forsook his heavenly throne, upon that glorious scene to 
gaze. 

On cars, like high-towered cities, seen, with elephants and coursers 
rode, 

Or on soft-swinging palanquin lay wondering, each observant god. 

As met in bright divan each god, and flashed their jewelled vestures’ 
rays, 

The coruscating ether glowed, as with a hundred suns ablaze. 

And in ten thousand sparkles bright went flashing up the cloudy 
spray. 

The snowy-flocking swans less white, within its glittering mists at 
play. 

And headlong now poured down the flood, and now in silver circlets 
wound ; 

Then lake-like spread, all bright and broad, then gently, gently 
- flowed around ; 

Then ’neath the caverued earth descending, then spouted up the 
boiling tide ; 

Then stream with stream, harmonious blending, swell bubbling up 
or smooth subside. 

. By that heaven-welling water’s breast, the genii and the sages 
stood ; 

Its sanctifying dews they blest, and plunged within the lustral 
flood.” — M ilman. 


The Mahabharata is a vast collection of miscellaneous 
poetry, attributed to Vyasa {ve-aJi sd), “ the arranger,” contain- 
ing over 200,000 lines, and relating the history of a struggle 
between two branches of an ancient royal family. Jealousy- 
led to the separation of the rival parties, one of which, the 
Pandavas {pahn'dd-vdz), cleared the jungle and founded the 
city of Delhi {del'k). But their enemies, the Kurus {Koo'rooz), 
resolving to dispossess them, challenged the Pandavas to a 
gambling match ; the latter accepted, but were cheated out 


44 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


of all their possessions by the use of loaded dice, and driven 
into the wilderness. A savage war ensued, resulting in the 
triumph of the Pandavas, and their elevation over the neigh- 
boring rajahs. {See ArnoleTs '‘'•Indian IdyllsI) 

The great Hindoo epics are both enlivened by charming 
episodes. The most beautiful of those interwoven in the 
Mahabharata are called “the Five Precious Gems.” Of 
these, the magnificent philosophical poem entitled The Divine 
Song withdraws the reader for a while from the tumult of 
war, and introduces him to a profound theological dialogue 
between a disguised god and one of the principal combatants. 
It inculcates the existence of one Immutable, Eternal Being, 
and teems with grand thoughts not unlike those we should 
expect from a Christian teacher. The immortality of the 
soul is thus sublimely set forth by the deity, on the eve of a 
decisive battle, for the purpose of removing the scruples of 
the chief, while the latter humanely hesitates to precipitate 
the conflict in view of the slaughter that would ensue : — 

“Ne’er was the time when I was not, nor thou, nor yonder kings of 
earth : 

Hereafter, ne’er shall he the time, when one of ns shall cease to he. 

The soul, within its mortal frame, glides on thro’ childhood, youth, 
and age ; 

Then in another form renewed, renews its stated course again. 

All iudestrnctihle is He that spread the living universe ; 

And who is he that shall destroy the work of the Iudestrnctihle? 

Corrnptihle these bodies are that wrap the everlasting soul — • 

The eternal, nnimagiuahle soul. Whence on to battle, Bh^rata! 

For he that thinks to slay the soul, or he tliat thinks the soul is 
slain, 

Are fondly both alike deceived : it is not slain — it slayeth not ; ^ 

It is not horn — it doth not die ; past, present, future knows it not ; 

Ancient, eternal, and unchanged, it dies not with the dying frame. 

Who knows it incorruptible, and everlasting, and unborn. 

What heeds he whether he may slay, or fall himself in battle slain ? 

As their old garments men cast off, anon new raiment to assume. 

So casts the soul its worn-out frame, and takes at once another form. 

The weapon cannot pierce it through, nor wastes it the consuming 
fire ; 

The liquid waters melt it not, nor dries it up the parching wind : 


EPIC POETRY. 


45 


Impenetrable and uuburned ; impermeable and undried ; 

Perpetual, ever-wandering, firm, indissoluble, permanent, 

Invisible, unspeakable.” — Milman. 

But of all the episodes, that of Nala {nul'd) and Damayanti 
is unsurpassed for pathos and tenderness of sentiment. King 
Nala, enamored of the “softly-smiling” Damayanti, “pearl 
among women,” finds his love returned, and is accepted by 
her ill preference to many other princes and even four of the 
gods. A jealous demon, however, possesses him, and causes 
him to lose at play everything except his bride, whom he can- 
not be prevailed upon to stake. Yet at last, in his madness, 
he deserts her in the forest, and Damayanti, after many 
strange adventures, reaches her father’s court in safety. 
There she adopts the device of inviting suitors a second time 
to propose for her hand, in the hope of bringing her lost hus- 
band to her side if he should hear that there was danger of 
his losing her forever. 

Nala, meanwhile, disguised as a charioteer, had entered 
the service of another king, who now sets forth to offer him- 
self to the beauteous princess, driven by her husband. When 
they arrive Damayanti penetrates the disguise of the chari- 
oteer, and to prove the correctness of her suspicions, puts 
him to the severest test. She contrives to have his children 
brought before him. The father’s heart is touched at once \ 
he clasps them in his arms, and bursts into tears. 

“ Soou as he young Inclrasena and her little brother saw. 

Up he sprang, his arms wound round them, to his bosom folding 
both. 

When he gazed upon the children, like the children of the gods. 

All his heart o’erflowed with pity, and unwilling tears brake 
forth.” 

Not wishing, however, to reveal himself to a wife whom he 
thought false, he added by way of apology for his conduct. 

Oh ! so like my own twin children was yon lovely infant pair. 
Seeing them thus unexpected, have I broken out in tears.” 


46 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


Finally Nala makes himself known to Damayanti, an3, con- 
vinced of her faithfulness, is reunited to her and regains his 
crown. 

Such are the Sanscrit epics and their episodes. They are 
still recited in the temples of India to vast throngs of appre- 
ciative lisieners ; the reading of the Mahabharata is said to 
occupy from three to six months. (On the epics, cofisuU 
Muir'^s '‘'•Metrical Translations from Sanscrit Writers.”) 


LYRIC AND DIDACTIC POETRY. 

Kalidasa. — In lyric poetry, embracing idyls and amatory 
pieces, Sanscrit is no less rich than in epic, whether quanti- 
ty or quality be considered. Foremost in this department is 
Kalidasa (kali'le-^ah'sd), about whose life, and even his exact 
period, nothing is certainly known, but whose works have 
crowned him with immortality. He is the author of many 
charming verses ; and his poem, “ the Seasons,” which draws 
fascinating pictures of the luxuriant landscapes of India, dis- 
playing on every page the poet’s ardent love for the beauties 
of nature, has the honor of being the first book ever printed 
in Sanscrit. 

AUTUMN. 

FROM Kalidasa’s seasons. 

“Welcome Autumn, lovely bride, 

Full of bearuty, full of pride ! 

Hear her anklets’ silver ring : 

’Tis the swans that round her sing. 

Mark the glory of her face : 

’Tis the lotus lends its grace. 

See the garb around her thrown ; 

Look and wonder at her zone. 

Robes of maize her limbs enfold, 

Girt with rice like shining gold. 

Streams are white with silver wings 
Of the swans that autumn brings. 

Lakes are sweet with opening flowers j 
Gardens, gay with jasmine bowers ; 


EXTKACT FROM KALIDAsa’S SEASONS. 


4r 


While the woods, to charm the sight, 
Show their bloom of purest white. 
Vainly might the fairest try 
With the charms around to vie. 

How can India’s graceful daughter 
Match that swan upon the water ? 
Fair her arching brow above, 
Swimming eyes that melt with love : 
But that charming brow can never 
Beat that ripple on the river; 

And those eyes must still confess 
Lilies’ rarer loveliness. 

Perfect are those rounded arms, 

Aided by the bracelets’ charms ; 
Fairer still those branches are. 

And those creepers, better far. 

Ring them round with many a fold, 
Lovelier than gems and gold. 

Now no more doth Indra’s Bow 
In the evening sunlight glow. 

Nor his flag, the lightning’s glare. 
Flash across the murky air. 

Beauty too has left the trees, 

Which but now were wont to please ■; 
Other darlings claim her care. 

And she xjours her blossoms there. 

Now beneath the moonlight sweet, 
Many troops of maidens meet. 

Many a x»leasant tale they tell 
Of the youths that love them well ; 
Of the word, the flush, the glance. 
The kiss, the sigh, the dalliance. 

Not a youth can wander when 
Jasmine blossoms scent the glen. 
While the notes of many a bird 
From the garden shades are heard, 
But his melting soul must feel 
Sweetest longing o’er it steal. 

Not a maid can brush away 
Morning dew-drops from the spray, 
But she feels a sweet unrest 
Wooingly disturb her breast. 

As the breezes fresh and cool 
From the lilies on the pool, 

Su eet with all the fragrance there. 
Play, like lovers, with her hair.” 

. Griffith. 


4.8 


SANSCEIT LITERATURE. 


Surpassing “the Seasons” in dignity and elegance, “the 
Cloud Messenger,” by the same author, contains some fine 
flights of fancy. It tells how an inferior god, banished for 
twelve months to a sacred forest and thus separated from a 
wife whom he fondly loves, commits to a passing cloud a mes- 
sage for his goddess. He directs its imaginary journey through 
the sky, over forests and hills, to the city of the gods. There 
it will easily distinguish his wife, whom he paints to the cloud 
in glowing colors as the “ first, best work of the Creator’s 
hand,” mourning over their separation. 

And sad and silent shalt tliou find my wife, 

Half of my soul and partner of my life ; 

Nipped by chill sorrow, as the flowers enfold 
Their shrinking petals from the withering cold. 

I view her now ! Long weeping swells her eyes. 

And those dear lips are dried by parching sighs. 

Sad on her hand her pallid cheek declines, 

And half unseen through veiling tresses shines; 

As when a darkling night the moon enshrouds, 

A few faint rays break straggling through the clouds.” 

He then intrusts the cloud with the tender words that he 
would breathe ; bids it tell his beloved how he sees her in 
the rippling brooks, how 

“ O’er the rude stone her pictured beauties rise 

and finally he charges his messenger to console her afflicted 
heart with assurances of his unabated love, and to hasten back 
with tidings that may relieve his soul of its anxiety. The cloud 
obeys ; but meanwhile the supreme deity learns of the mes- 
sage, repents of his severity, restores the exile to his wife, and 
blesses the pair with ceaseless joy. 

KMidasa also wrote three epics of a romantic character, 
one of them on the adventures of Nala and his devoted Da- 
mayanti. Well does he meirit the title conferred on him by 
his admiring countrymen, — “the Bridegroom of Poesy.” 

Jayadeva {ji-d-da vd)^ a poet probably of more recent times. 


LYRIC POETRY. 


49 


if not equal to Kalidasa, yet has given us in Gitagovinda one 
of the most enchanting idyls ever written. In this Song of 
the Shepherd Govinda, the form assumed by the god Krishna, 
are set forth in voluptuous colors the adventures of the deity 
and nine shepherdesses, his beautiful attendants. The whole 
is supposed to be a mystical allegory. 

The high estimation in which Jayadeva is held, may be in- 
ferred from the following eulogy by an Oriental critic : “What- 
ever is delightful in the modes of music, whatever is exquisite 
in the sweet art of love, whatever is graceful in the strains of 
poetry — all that let the happy and wise learn from the songs 
of Jayadeva.” {See Arnold^ s '■^Indian Poetry^' p. 86.) 

Whittier has furnished us the following spirited version of a 
Hindoo lyric by a poet who flourished in the third century of 
our era, and who, if we may judge by his writings, had concep- 
tions of God and duty not unworthy of a Christian bard. 

GIVING AND TAKING. 

“ Who gives and hides the giving hand. 

Nor counts on favor, fame, or praise. 

Shall find his smallest gift outweighs 
The burden of the sea and land. 

Who gives to whom hath naught been given, 

His gift in need, though small indeed, 

* As is the grass-blade’s wind-blown seed. 

Is large as earth, and rich as heaven. 

Forget it not, O man, to whom 

A gift shall fall while yet on earth j 
Yea, even to thy sevenfold birth 
Recall it in the lives to come. 

Who dares to curse the hands that bless. 

Shall know of sin the deadliest cost; 

The patience of the heaven is lost 
Beholding man’s unthankfulness. 

For he who breaks all laws may still 
In Siva’s mercy be forgiven ; 

But none can save, in earth or heaven, 

The wretch who answers good with ill.” 


50 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


THE DRAMA. 

The Sanscrit Shakespeare. — Not the least valuable of San- 
scrit treasures is its dramatic poetr}^ Here, as in lyric verse, 
Kalidasa stands preeminent, the Shakespeare of India. His 
title to this distinction rests mainly on his drama of Sakoon'- 
tala, or the Lost Ring, which portrays the simple life and un- 
sophisticated manners of his countrymen with all his charac- 
teristic tenderness of expression and rich imagination. 

Plot of Sakoontala. — In early summer — the fitting season, 
sacred as it was to the god of love — the play of Sakoontala was 
wont to be acted in ancient India. The heroine, whose name 
the drama bears, was the daughter of a nymph, and dwelt at a 
hermitage in the jungle. Led to her retreat by chance in his 
pursuit of a deer, a neighboring rajah espies the “ slender- 
waisted ” forest maid, with two lovely companions, watering 
the shrubbery. Concealing himself among the trees, he plays 
eaves-dropper, and as he watches the trio he cannot restrain 
his admiration; “the woodland plants,” he cries, “outshine 
the garden flowers.” His heart is lost forthwith. Ordering 
his camp to be pitched near by, he wooes and finally weds 
Sakoontala, with the assurance that she shall “ reign without 
a rival in his heart.” Then leaving his bride a marriage-ring, 
engraved with his name, as a token of their union, the rajah 
goes back to his palace, promising that Sakoontala shall soon 
share his throne. 

“ Repeat each day one letter of the name 
Engraven on this gem ; ere thou hast reckoned 
The tale of syllables, my minister 
Shall come to lead thee to thy husband’s palace.” 

Not long after his departure, a sage whose anger she has 
incurred pronounces a curse upon the pair, — “ that he of whom 
she thought should think of her no more,” should even forget 
her image, and that the spell should cease only at sight of the 


DRAMATIC POETRY. 


51 


marriage-ring. This token of remembrance, however, was se- 
cured on her finger ; and at length Sakoontala, re-assured by 
a favorable omen, leaves the sorrowing companions of her girl- 
hood, and the venerable hermit, her reputed father, to seek her 
husband in his capital. 

Arrived in safety, she gains access to the royal presence ; 
but the king, laboring under the curse, fails to recognize her. 
Sakoontala is unveiled, and stands before him in all her beau- 
ty — a beauty that stirs him to exclaim ; — 

What charms are here revealed before mine eyes! 

Truly no blemish mars the symmetry 

Of that fair form ; yet can I ne’er believe 

She is my wedded wife ; and like a bee 

That circles round the flower whose nectared cup 

Teems with the dew of morning, I must pause 

Ere eagerly I taste the proffered sweetness.” 

Then Sakoontala seeks her ring, but alas ! it is not on her 
finger ; she must have dropped it in the Canges. In the midst 
of her confusion a nymph appears, and carries her off to a sa- 
cred retreat, where she gives birth to a son. 

Meanwhile a fish is caught, in which is found the fatal ring, 
stamped with the rajah’s name. It is restored to its owner, 
and at once the recollection of his long-forgotten Sakoontala 
flashes upon his mind. Overwhelmed with poignant regret 
for her loss, he abandons himself to melancholy for a time, 
calling on her beloved name, or trying to beguile his grief by 
tracing with his pencil her features now but too well remem- 
bered. At length ambition and piety unite to wake him from 
his lethargy. He embarks in a campaign against the giants, 
enemies of the gods ; is victorious ; and finds the consumma- 
tion of happiness at last in a union with his long-lost wife, and 
with his son, whose name, Bharata, becomes the most distin- 
guished in the mythology of India. 

English readers are enabled to enjoy the beauties of Sa- 
koontald through the metrical version of Prof Williams. 


52 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


EXTRACTS FROM SAKOONTALA. 

PARTING WORDS OF THE SAGE TO IIIS ADOPTED DAUGHTER. 

This day my loved one leaves me, and my heart 
Is heavy with its grief: the streams of sorrow, 

Choked at the source, repress my faltering voice. 

I have no words to speak ; mine eyes are dimmed 
By the dark shadows of the thoughts that rise 
Within my soul. If such the force of grief 
In an old hermit parted from his nursling, 

What anguish must the stricken parent feel. 

Bereft forever of an only daughter ! 

Weep not, my daughter, check the gathering tear 
That lurks beneath thine eyelid, ere it flow 
And weaken thy resolve ; be linn and true — 

True to thyself and me ; the path of life 

Will lead o’er hill and plain, o’er rough and smooth^ 

And all must feel the steepness of the way ; 

Tho’ rugged be thy course, press boldly on. 

Honor thy betters ; ever be respectful 
To those above thee. Should thy wedded lord 
Treat thee with harshness, thou must never be 
Harsh in return, but patient and submissive. 

Be to thy menials courteous, and to all 
Placed under thee considerate and kind : 

Be never self-indulgent, but avoid 

Excess in pleasure ; and, when fortune smiles. 

Be not puffed up. Thus to thy husband’s house 
Wilt thou a blessing prove, and not a curse. 

How, O my child! shall my bereaved heart 
Forget its bitterness, when, day by day. 

Full in my sight shall grow the tender plants 
Reared by thy care, or sprung from hallowed grain 
Which thy loved hands have strewn around the door-^ 

A frequent offering to our household gods.” 


THE KING AND SAKOONTALa’s PORTRAIT. 

“ My finger, burning with the glow of love. 

Has left its impress on the painted tablet ; 

While here and there, alas ! a scalding tear 

Has fallen on the cheek and dimmed its brightness^ 


SAKOONTALA. 


53 


Go fetch the brush that I may finish it. 

A sweet Sirisha blossom should he twined 
Behind her ear, its perfumed crest depending 
Toward her cheek ; and resting on her bosom, 

■ A lotus-fibre necklace, soft and bright 

As an autumnal moonbeam, should be traced.” 

While gazing on the picture, the king in his infatuation mis- 
takes for reality a bee which he has himself painted in the act 
of settling on the rosy lips of his love, and after attempting to 
drive it off is apprised of his error by an attendant, whom he 
thus addresses : — 

“ While all entranced I gazed upon her picture, 

My loved one seemed to live before my eyes, 

Till every fibre of my being thrilled 
With rapturous emotion. Oh ! ’twas cruel 
To dissipate the day-dream, and transform 
The blissful vision to a lifeless image. 

Vain is the hope of meeting her in dreams, 

For slnmber, night by night, forsakes my couch. 

And now that I would fain assuage my grief 
By gazing on her portrait, here before me. 

Tears of despairing love obscure my sight.” 

Monier Williams. 

Sakoontala may justly be called the pearl of Eastern dra- 
matic poetry. It has been translated into every European 
tongue, and has elicited the admiration of all civilized nations. 
In the language of Goethe : — 

“Would’st thou the young year’s blossom and the fruits of its 
decline. 

And all by which the soul is charmed, enraptured, feasted, fed — 
WoukVst thou the earth and heaven itself in one sole name com- 
bine ? 

I name thee, O Sakoontala ! and all at once is said.” 

From the author of this drama we have two other pieces 
worthy of his fame, “ the Hero and the Nymph ” and a pop- 
ular comedy. His era was the golden age of the Hindoo 
theatre. 

Other noted plays, a few out of many, are “ the Toy Cart,” 

a domestic drama with a public underplot ; “ the Signet of 

C 


54 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


the Minister,” which had a political bearing ; “ the Stolen 
Marriage and an allegorical play, “ the Moonrise of Sci- 
ence.” 

The Hindoo Drama, the invention of which was ascribed to 
an ancient sage inspired by Brahma himself, consisted at 
first of music, dancing, and pantomime. An outcome of the 
prevailing mythology, it was made a feature of the Indian 
festivals, and from very early rude beginnings of which we 
have no remains gradually progressed to the perfection with 
which Kalidasa invested it. Unfolding the inner life of the 
people and illustrating their peculiar institutions, it is at once 
interesting and valuable, original, and in its delineations of 
character strikingly true to nature. Love is its principal 
subject ; and, what is markedly characteristic, its denoue- 
ments are always happy. Tragedy is foreign to the Hindoo 
stage. 

The Indian plays began and closed with a benediction or 
prayer; in many cases there was a preliminary account of 
the author, or a colloquy between the manager and one of 
the actors, leading the way to the play itself. The heroes 
were generally kings or deities. As foils to these, it was 
usual to introduce mountebanks or buffoons, and as such 
Brahmans were made to figure. The Hindoo dramatists did 
not hesitate to set forth their priests in a ridiculous light ; 
a remarkable fact, when we remember that the drama in In- 
dia was a semi-religious institution, and that the managers 
of companies were usually themselves Brahmans. The play- 
wright who in Greece should have taken such liberties with 
his religious superiors would have run the risk of being 
driven from the stage, if indeed he were not more seriously 
handled by an indignant audience. 

The consistency observed in managing the dialogue is 
noteworthy. The parts spoken by divinities and heroes, 
rulers and priests, are always in ancient Sanscrit ; while the 


THE HINDOO DRAMA. 


55 


inferior personages and the female characters use the later 
and more familiar dialect. Want of acquaintance with the 
sacred language, which thus formed the staple of the classi- 
cal plays, no doubt prevented the common people from fully 
understanding and enjoying dramatic representations ; and 
hence the latter never attained that popularity which they 
had in other countries. They were the entertainment of the 
cultured class rather than the masses. 

Another curious feature of the Hindoo drama was the 
absence of scenery, the plays being mostly represented in 
the open air, the courts of palaces, etc. The great advan- 
tage which the modern performer derives from fine scenic 
effects was entirely wanting. Changes of scene could be in- 
dicated only in the text, by minute descriptions of the new 
locality, thrown into the mouths of the speakers and left for 
the audience to fill out and remember. No shifting of scenes, 
for instance, as with us, would denote the entrance of one of 
the characters from out-doors into a drawing-room ; but the 
personage entering, either in a soliloquy or in colloquy with 
some other, would immediately call attention to every little 
point— the threshold, the floor, the ceiling, the walls, the 
doors, the windows, the furniture — and the "glowing fancy of 
his hearers would at once picture the scene as vividly as if 
it stood before them in reality. 

The proprieties were strictly observed. To represent a 
death scene would have been intolerable ; nor only so, but 
in the earlier and purer days no dramatist would introduce 
before his audience a scene of violence, eating, sleeping, or 
the performance of the marriage ceremony. A charming love- 
scene in the Sakoontala breaks off just at the critical moment 
when the hero and heroine are about to interchange a token 
of affection ; yet the embrace does not appear always to have 
been repugnant to the Hindoo ideas of delicacy. 

As to the date of the dramas that have been mentioned, 


56 


SANSCRIT LITERATURE. 


they are supposed to have been written during the first ten 
centuries of the Christian Era ; but here, as in the case of the 
epics and lyrics, we are left to conjecture. Could we know 
more certainly what times they reflect, our pleasure in perusing 
them would be complete. 

TALES AND FABLES. 

India has long enjoyed the reputation, and not without 
reason, of having been the favorite home of fairy-tale and 
fable. From her storehouse of fictions, many waifs have 
crept into the literatures of both Europe and Asia, and strik- 
ing the popular taste have attained wide currency. Tongues 
have changed, dynasties have fallen ; but these stories by un- 
known hands still live in the nursery, influencing the pliant 
minds of the children of to-day as they have done those of 
the last twenty centuries. 

The Sanscrit has two great collections of fables, — the 
Pankatantra, Five Stories (more properly Five Sectiofis) ; and 
the Hitopadesa, a charming compilation from 

the former. The Hitopadesa, translated into many languages, 
has almost rivalled in circulation the Bible itself. In the fol- 
lowing fable, selected from “the Friendly Advice,’^ will be 
seen the germ of La Fontaine’s charming imitation, “the 
Milkmaid and the Pitcher of Milk both point the same 
moral as our own cautionary proverb, “ Don’t count your 
chickens before they are hatched.” 

THE STUPID BRAHMAN. 

“ In the town of Devikotta there lived a Brahman of the name of 
Devasarman. At the feast of the great equinox he received a plate- 
ful of rice. He took it, went into a potter’s shop, which was full of 
crockery, and, overcome by the heat, he lay down in a corner and be- 
gan to doze. In order to protect his plate of rice, he kept a stick in 
his hand ; and he began to think : ‘ Now if I sell this plate of rice, 
I shall receive ten cowries. I shall then, on the spot, buy pots and 
plates, and after having increased my capital again and again I shall 


TALES, HISTORY, GRAMMAR. 


57 


buy and sell betel nuts and dresses till I grow enormously rich. Then 
I shall marry four wives, and the youngest and prettiest of the four 
I shall make a great pet of. Then the other wives will be so angry 
and begin to quarrel. But I shall be in a great rage, and take a stick, 
and give them a good flogging.’ 

While he said this, suiting the action to the thought, he laid about 
him with his stick ; the plate of rice was smashed to pieces, and 
many of the pots in the shop were broken. The potter, hearing the 
noise, ran in ; and when he saw his pots broken, gave the Brahman 
a good scolding and drove him out of the shop. 

Therefore I say, ‘ He who rejoices over plans for the future will 
come to grief, like the Brahman who broke the pots.’ ” — Mak Muller. 

Of the numerous collections of tales and romances, the best 
known is “ the Ocean of the Rivers of Narratives,” the orig- 
inal of that more familiar compilation, the Arabian Nights. 

HISTORY, GRAMMAR, ETC. 

Sanscrit is also worthily represented in other departments 
of literature ; on the fine arts we have nothing worthy of 
notice, but science has not been neglected, while historical, 
grammatical, and philosophical works, complete the category 
of its productions. Its chronicles, however, obscured as they 
are by myths without number, are comparatively valueless ; 
but one deserves the name of history, the Chronicle of Cash- 
mere, or the Stream of the Kings, extending from the fabu- 
lous ages to the reign of Akbar, who reduced that province 
in the i6th century. 

But in grammar we must certainly award to Sanscrit the 
very first place. Commentaries on the constructions of the 
Veda, dating perhaps from 750 B.C., embody the earliest at- 
tempts at grammatical and critical investigation with which 
we are acquainted ; and in the digest of Panini (paA'ne-ne) 
(500 B.C. ?) we have the first systematic grammar that the 
world ever produced — a book remarkable for its completeness, 
declared by Max Miiller to be “ the perfection of an empirical 
analysis of language, unsurpassed — nay, even unapproached, 
by anything in the grammatical literature of other nations.” 


58 


BUDDHIST LITERATURE. 


In connection with the literature of India, we may also men- 
tion inscriptions on monuments, in temples and grottoes, and 
on plates of marble and copper. These are worthy of study 
mainly in view of the historical information they may afford. 

Such is a history, in outline, of the ancient Sanscrit, of 
which Prof. Muller has written: “The study of it will open 
before you large layers of literature as yet almost unknown 
and unexplored, and allow you an insight into strata of 
thought rich in lessons that appeal to the deepest sympathies 
of the human heart.” 

The reader is further referred to Sayce’s “ Introduction to Compara- 
tive Philology for an exposition of the religions ideas, to Cox’s 

Mythology of the Aryan Nations,” vol. I., and Perry’s ‘Mndra in the 
Rig- Veda;” for the literature and general history, to Max Muller’s 
^^Hibbert Lectures,” 1878, and Mrs. Manning’s Ancient and Mediceval 
India.” 


BUDDHIST LITERATURE. 

About 500 B.C., a new and purer religion was preached in 
India by a monk of royal birth, afterward called Buddha {//le 
Enlightened). It met with a hearty reception from the peo- 
ple, for it taught men to live in charity with their neighbors, 
to reverence their parents, to practise truth and morality ; 
above all, it overthrew the institution of caste, and abolished 
the foolish system of Brahman sacrifices. The riches and 
fleeting pleasures of this world, Buddha proclaimed unworthy 
of pursuit, representing life itself as a burden, and promising 
his followers a paradise of eternal rest* beyond the grave. 
No wonder that thousands declared in favor of the new faith, 
which during a struggle of many centuries disputed with 


* Nh'vdna — “ a condition of total cessation of changes ; of perfect rest ; of the 
absence of desire, and illusion, and sorrow ; of the total obliteration of everything 
that goes to make up the physical man. Before reaching Nirvana, man is con- 
stantly being re-born ; when he reaches Nirvana, he is born no more.” — Olcoit's 
“ Buddhist Catechism," p. 32. 


THE SACRED BOOKS. 


59 


Brahmanism for the supremacy of India. Pushing out to the 
northeast, it made its way into Thibet, China, and Japan ; and 
at the present day has more followers than any other religious 
system, their number being estimated at 450,000,000. {Con- 
sult Hardy's Manual of BuddhismC) 

The sacred books of the Buddhists are called the Tripitaka 
{three baskets) ; one is metaphysical, another disciplinary, and 
the third contains the discourses of Buddha. They are written 
in a dialect of Sanscrit, and are made up of 600,000 stanzas, 
containing five times as much matter as our Bible. {See Mofiier 
Williams’s '‘^Buddhism in its Contrast with Christianity.”) 

EXTRACTS FROM THE BUDDHIST SCRIPTURES. 

“ The succoring of mother and father, the cherishing of child and 
wife, and the following of a lawful calling, — this is the greatest 
blessing. 

The giving of alms, the abstaining from sins, the eschewing of in- 
toxicating drink, diligence in good deeds, reverence and humility, 
contentment and gratitude, — this is the greatest blessing. 

He who lives for pleasure only, his senses uncontrolled, idle and 
weak, the tempter will certainly overcome him as the wind throws 
down a weak tree. 

Like a beautiful flower, full of color but without scent, are the fine 
but fruitless words of him who does not act accordingly. 

As the bee collects nectar, and departs without injuring the flower, 
or its color and scent, so let the sage dwell on earth. 

Let no man think lightly of evil, saying in his heart, ‘ It will not 
come near unto me.’ Even by the falling of water-drops a water-pot 
is filled ; the fool becomes full of evil, even if he gathers it little by 
little. 

Let us live happily then, though we call nothing our own ; not 
hating those who hate us, free from greed among the greedy. We 
shall then be like the bright gods, feeding on happiness.” 


NOTES ON HINDOO LITERATURE, ETC. 

# 

The literature of India incalculably vast, and its individual works voluminous. 
The Mahabharata six times as long as the Iliad, Odyssey, and .^ueid united; 
the Ramayana half this size. The eighteen Puranas contain 1,600,000 lines. 
The library of one of the kings said to have numbered so many books that a 
hundred Brahmans were employed in taking care of it, and a thousand drome- 
daries Avere required to convey it from place to place ; twenty years were con- 


60 


PERSIAN LITERATURE. 


sumed in condensing its contents, by the royal command, into an encyclopaedia 
of 12,000 volumes. Sir William Jones computed that the longest life would not 
suffice for the perusal of all the Sanscrit writings. — First century B.C. believed 
to have been an Augustan age of Indian literature. 

Writing apparently unknown to the ancient Hindoos before the time of Pani- 
ni. No mention anywhere made, in the early works, of writing materials, pen 
or brush, paper, bark, or skin. The Vedic hymns sung or repeated probably for 
a thousand years before they were committed to writing. The use of the alpha- 
bet long regarded as impious. First letters appear in Buddhist inscriptions of 
the 3d century B.C. Later Indian manuscripts, beautifully inscribed on palm 
leaves. The letters of the Sanscrit alphabet thought to be the oldest forms of 
our Arabic figures, which came originally from India, as did also our decimal 
system. 

Chess one of the earliest inventions of the Hindoos — called chess (king) from 
the principal piece. The Brahman inventor, so the story goes, asked of the 
reigning emperor as his reward, a single grain of wheat for the first square of the 
chess-board, two for the second, four for the third, and so on to the sixty-fourth ; 
apparently a modest price, but one that it would have taken yearc to pay with 
the wheat crop of the whole world. Elephants, horses, foot-soldiers, and chari- 
ots, the original chess-men. From India, the game found its way into China, 
Japan, and Persia, and finally into Europe. — Throwing dice, also, a favorite pas- 
time ; the “Game of Four Crowns,” with playing-cards, early known to the 
Hindoos. 

Square copper money coined in the 3d century B.C., and stamped with inscrip- 
tions in a Sanscrit dialect. 


CHAPTER II. 

PERSIAN LITERATURE. 

Avesta. — Sprung from the same ancient Aryan tongue as 
the Sanscrit of India, and distinguished by the same richness 
of inflection, is Avesta, the earliest language of Persia, still 
preserved to us in the Persian Scriptures known as the Avesta. 
The Veda and the Avesta have been described as “ two rivers 
flowing from one fountain-head;” and beyond a doubt the 
Vedic Aryans and the Avesta-speaking Persians were origi- 
nally one community, conversing in a common tongue. 

The Avesta was first made known to Europeans by a PVench 


ZOROASTER. 


61 


orientalist,' Anquetil Duperron {pn^k-teel' deit-pa-rons:')^ who 
went to India for the express purpose of discovering the sa- 
cred books of the Parsees. With great difficulty he at length 
possessed himself of the much-desired Avesta manuscripts, 
and in 1771, after long and patient effort, he gave his country- 
men the first translation of the Avesta into a European 
tongue. The language has since been carefully studied, and 
in our own day has at last been mastered. Time wrought 
many changes in it ; the Persian of Xerxes’ reign differed 
much more from the Avesta of antiquity than our present 
language does from the English of Chaucer. Further modifi- 
cations and the introduction of Arabic elements have made 
modern Persian still more unlike the ancient vernacular. 

The sacred writings of Persia just referred to are among 
the oldest and most important in the whole range of Indo- 
European literature. They contain the doctrines of Zoroaster, 
or Zarathushtra, the Bactrian sage who reformed the religious 
system of his country. [See yacksorCs Avesta Series, Part /.) 

Zoroaster is believed to have flourished about 1400 B.C. 
Nothing is known of his life or history. Yet, through more 
than thirty centuries his influence has been felt ; and to-day, 
though they have dwindled to perhaps 150,000 souls, his fol- 
lowers constitute a thrifty and intelligent population in India 
and Persia. These Parsees, or Fire-worshippers (called by 
the Mohammedans Guebres, or infidels), still burn the eternal 
fire, kindled as they believe from heaven, not for idolatrous 
worship, but as an emblem of Ormazd, the Almighty source 
of light. They are descendants of those Zoroastrians whom 
Darius and Xerxes launched against Europe in the mightiest 
armies ever raised by man, threatening to plant their purer 
faith amid the ruined shrines of Greece. (Pead Hang's ^'‘Essays 
on the Sacred Language, Writings, and Religion of the Par sis S) 

At a later date, when the Caliph Omar converted Persia to 
Mohammedanism with the sword (641 A. D.), their forefathers 

C 2 


PERSIAN LITERATURE. 


i)2 

clung to the ancient faith, and found an asylum across the 
Indus or in the deserts of their native land. 

The Avesta {sacred text) contains the only existing monu- 
ments of a once extensive literature. It is divided into dis- 
tinct parts, made up of separate pieces and fragments, which, 
repeated orally from generation to generation, were probably 
collected and reduced to writing in their present form many 
centuries after the period of Zoroaster. The compositions in 
question are chiefly professed revelations and instructions to 
mankind, confessions, prayers to the Supreme Being and va- 
rious inferior deities, and metrical hymns {GdtJids), simple 
and some of them so grand as to be deemed the productions 
of Zoroaster himself. 

Zoroaster is represented in the Avesta as conversing with 
Ormazd, who, in answer to the inquiries of the sage,, reveals 
his will, and prescribes the moral and ceremonial law. Thus, 
in the following passage, Zoroaster questions Ormazd : — 

“O Ormazd (Aliiira Mazda), most holy spirit, creator of existent 
worlds, righteous One! What, O Ormazd, was the Word (more cor- 
rectly, Ahuna Vairya, the name of a sacred verse) which you pro- 
nounced for me before the heaven, before the Avater, before the cow, 
before the tree, before the tire, before the righteous man, before the 
demons and noxious creatures V’ 

Then Ormazd replies : “ I will tell thee, most holy Zoroaster, what 
was the Creative Word I pronounced for thee before the heaven, be- 
fore the water, before the cow, before the tree, before the fire, before 
the righteous man, before the demons and noxious creatures, before 
all the universe. Such is the whole of the Creative W^ord, which, 
even when nnprononnced and nnrecited, outweighs a thousand 
breathed prayers, which are not pronounced, nor recited, nor sung. 
And he who in this world, O most holy Zoroaster, remembers the 
whole of the Creative Word, or utters it, or sings it, I will lead his 
soul thrice across the bridge of the better world, to the better exist- 
ence, to the better truth, to the better days. I pronounced this 
Speech which contains the Word and its working, before the crea- 
tion of this heaven, and before the creation of the earth. 

“ He is a holy man,” says Ormazd elsewhere, “ Avho constructs upon 
the earth a habitation in which he maintains fire, cattle, his wife, his 
children, and flocks and herds. He Avho makes the earth produce 
grain, who cultivates the fruits of the fields, he maintains j)urity; 


THE A VESTA. 


63 


he promotes the law of Ormazd as much as if he offered a hundred 
sacrifices.” 

Avesta Philosophy. — The Avesta seems to recognize one 
eternal Supreme Being, infinite and omnipotent. This was 
Ormazd (Sph'itual Wise One), whom Zoroaster invokes as the 
source of light and purity, “true, lucid, shining,” all-perfect, 
all-powerful, all-beautiful, all-wise.” Opposed to Ormazd was 
a principle of darkness and evil, called Ah'riman (Angra 
Mainyu, Sinful -minded'). The theory of evolution finds no 
support in the Avesta, which contains an account of the crea- 
tion of the universe strikingly like that of Moses. Traditions 
of the fall of man through the falsehood of Ahriman,and of a 
universal deluge, are also handed down. (On the Avesta, see 
Muller'’s '■’‘Sacred Books of the Basf’ vols. iv., xxiii., xxxi.) 

Zoroaster’s mission was to exhort men to follow the right 
and forsake the wrong. “ Choose one of these two spirits, 
the Good or the Evil,” he said ; “you cannot serve both.” 

“ Of these two Spirits, the Wicked One chose to do evil ; the Holy 
Spirit, whose garment is the immovable sky, chose what is right, as. 
they also do who faithfully please Ormazd by gocrd works. 

“ And between these two Spirits, the demons chose not aright. 
Madness came upon them, so that they chose the Worst Mind, and 
they went over to the side of wrath to destroy the life of maukind. 

“Now then, may we be those who make this life perfect; and may 
Ormazd and Asha (Righteousness) grant their aid, that he whose 
faith is altered may become of believing heart. 

“For at the final reckoning, the blow of annihilation will come 
upon falsehood; but they who enjoy a good re])ort will see their 
hopes fulfilled in the blessed abode of the Good Mind. 

“If, O men, ye mark these doctrines which Mazda instituted for 
your well-being, and that torment will come to the wicked and bless- 
ing to the righteous, through these will be your salvation.” — Geldner. 

Like Buddha, the Persian reformer raised his voice against 
the priesthood, and the corruptions which had crept into the 
national religion. Devil-worship, which had come into vogue 
as a means of averting the evil supposed to be wrought by 
wicked spirits, he specially denounced, recognizing in sin the 


64 


PERSIAN LITERATURE. 


cause of all human sorrow, and urging men to wage uncom* 
promising warfare with the powers of darkness, relying for aid 
on the Good Spirit. “ Give offering and praise,” says the 
Avesta, “to, that Lord who made men greater than all earthly 
beings, and through the gift of speech created them to rule 
the creatures, as warriors against the evil spirits ^ Fire was 
invoked as the symbol of Divinity, and the sun as “the eye 
of Ormazd but idolatry Zoroaster and his disciples abhorred. 

Ormazd was the rewarder of the good, the punisher of the 
bad. Those who obeyed him, and were “ pure in thoughts, 
pure in words, pure in actions,” were admitted at death into 
Paradise^ “ the House of the Angels’ Hymns,” where all was 
brightness : the wicked were consigned to a region of ever- 
lasting darkness, “the House of the Fiend Deceit.” Of all the 
religions of human origin, Zoroaster’s, though not free from 
superstition and cumbrous rites, approaches nearest to the 
truth. It was gladly accepted by the people, and did much 
to elevate them and improve their condition. We have thrown 
into verse the following 

HYMN TO ORMAZD. 

Praise to Ormazd, great Creator, 

He it was the cattle made ; 

Lord of purity aud goodness, 

Trees and water, snn and shade. 

Unto him belongs the kingdom, 

Unto him the might belongs; 

Unto him, as first of beings. 

Light-creator, float onr songs. 

Him we praise, Ahnrian Mazda, 

With onr life and bodies praise; 

Purer than the purest, fairest. 

Bright through never-ending days. 

What is good and what is brilliant. 

That we reverence in thee — 

Thy good spirit, thy good kingdom, 

^ Wisdom, law, and equity. 

‘ Persian Inscriptions.— In a flower-clad plain of southwest- 


CUNEIFORM INSCRIPTIONS. 


65 


ern Persia, shut in from the outer world by lofty hills, and 
now dotted with pleasant villages, once stood the great palace 
of Persep'olis, the wonder of the world for its magnificence— 
which Alexander, in a fit of drunken fury, reduced to a heap 
of ruins with his wanton torch (331 B.C.). Yet, though silent 
and deserted, “ the piles of fallen Persepolis ” speak to us, not 
only with their strange sculptures, but also through the in- 
scriptions carved upon them in cuneiform letters, originally 
adorned with gold. 



Not far from these ruins is the famous rock of Behistun, 
1,700 feet high, and inscribed with the same arrow-headed, 
wedge-shaped characters. Some of these, protected from the 


PERSIAN LITERATURE. 


f»() 

weather by a varnish of flint, have been wonderfully preserved 
to the present time. 

"^This mountain -record was set up by Darius I. (516-515 
B.C.), who, in the shadow of the palace- walls of Persepolis, was 
wont to sit upon a throne of gold, canopied by a vine of the 
same precious metal bearing clusters of priceless gems. It is 
his triumphal tablet, graven with figures of himself and several 
conquered princes. It records his victories, asserts his hered- 
itary right to the throne, and enumerates the provinces of his 
vast empire, in nearly a thousand lines of cuneiform charac- 
ters — in three different languages, the Persian, Scythian, and 
Babylonian — that it might be understood by all his subjects. 

Here the Persian monarch announces his dignity, while he 
attributes the glory of it all to the God Supreme : — 

“I am Darius, the Great King, the King of Kings, the King of 
Persia, the King of the dependent provinces, the son of Hystaspes. 

By the grace of Ormazd I am King. Ormazd has granted me my 
empire. The countries which have fallen into my hands, by the 
grace of Ormazd I have become king of them. 

Within these countries, whoever was good, him have I cherished 
and protected ; whoever was evil, him have I utterly destroyed. By 
the grace of Ormazd, these countries have obeyed my laws. By the 
grace of Ormazd, I hold this empire.” 

Other inscriptions were cut by order of Xerxes, whose royal 
name and title they formally declare ; but there are none of 
any later date. Cuneiform letters were also employed by 
other nations, as will be hereafter seen (page 105). Most of 
the ancient Persian literature was lost during the struggle with 
Alexander the Great, and subsequent wars and convulsions. 
(On the cuneiform monuments, see ^o/mson's “ Orie?ital Relig- 
ions : FersiaR) 


NOTES ON PERSIAN LITERATURE, ETC. 

Ancient Persian records made on leather; parchment the favorite writing 
material, the high price of papyrus preventing its adoption. Bricks seldom used 
for inscriptions. A running hand, different from the cuneiform, probably in use 


LIBRARIES. THE MAGI. 


07 


among the people for ordinary purposes, as every educated person could undoubt- 
edly write : no trace of this left. 

The kings of Persia founders of a library consisting of historical records, state 
archives, and royal ordinances. “ The house of the rolls ” at Babylon is men- 
tioned in the book of Ezra as being searched, during the reign of Darius, for a 
certain volunae supposed to contain a decree of Cyrus, providing for the rebuild- 
ing of the Temple at Jerusalem. 

The old priestly order of Media a-d Persia, known as Ma'gi ; devoted to sci- 
entific studies, in which they attained such eminence that they were believed to 
possess supernatural powers — whence our word magic. The “ wise men ” of the 
New Testament by some supposed to be Persian Magi. 

The Zoroastrian religion, which was on the wane, restored and maintained in 
the third century after Christ by the Sassan'idae, who measured swords success- 
fully with the Roman emperors, and extended the power of Persia. The Avesta 
translated into Pahlavi,a mixture of Semitic with Iranian elements, in which are 
preserved most of the details of the traditions, ceremonies, and customs of the 
ancient faith. The combined text and Palilavi translation known as Avesta- 
Zend, or revelation and commentary. (^See “ Sacred Boohs of the East," vol, r.) 




CHAPTER III. 

CHINESE LITERATURE. 

Chinese Language. — From the Persian Gathas and Vedic 
hymns, let us now turn to the prose writings of the Chinese 
philosophers, plain, grave, and moral in their tone. The lan- 
guage in which their tenets have been preserved differs ma- 
terially from the musical Sanscrit and its sister Avesta. 

Modern Chinese, which has changed but little from the 
ancient tongue and is the least developed of all existing lan- 
guages, is monosyllabic ; i. e. each syllable conveys a com- 
plete idea, all its words are expressed by single separate 
sounds. Of these elements, or roots, it contains 450 ; changes 
of emphasis and intonation, accompanied with corresponding 
changes in meaning, increase this number to 1,263. 

Chinese may be called a language without grammar, as it 


68 


CHINESE LITERATURE. 


dispenses with inflection and conjugation, and leaves the rela- 
tions of words and their functions as different parts of speech 
to be determined by the arrangement. Thus sin means hon- 
or^ honorable^ honorably^ or to be honorable^ according to its po- 
sition in the sentence. Plurality and gender are generally in- 
dicated by adding roots with a modifying signification. Son 
in Chinese is man-child; daughter, woman-child ; a mare is 
called a mother-horse; people is the word surnames with a 
hundred prefixed. This grouping together of roots is carried 
to great lengths. Writing materials is expressed by two words 
four precious objects (paper, brush, ink, and palette); a 
trader is a buying- selling-man ; a knife is a sword' s-son ; while 
difference of opinion is expressed by four words meaning 1 
east^ thou west. 

Characters used in Writing. — The written characters of 
the Chinese were originally outline pictures of visible objects; 
specimens are presented below. A crescent (i) stood for the 
moon; three peaks (2), for a mountain; (3) is a tortoise, (4) a 
fish, (5) a field. Pictographs were frequently combined to 
represent a single idea. The notion of song, for instance, 
was conveyed by a mouth and a bird (6) ; that of tears, by 
the symbols for eye and water ; beauty and goodness, by the 
representation of a virgin and an infant. 



One or more of these hieroglyphic symbols (determinatives') 
enter into the composition of every modern Chinese character 
' — which has also a phonetic element, like the characters of the 
Egyptian (p. 120) and Assyrian (p. 106) systems. The ideo- 
graphic element is indispensable : the one sound tschoo, for 
example, means ape, whirlpool, island, silk, deep, a wine, a kind 


CHINESE HIEROGLYPHICS. 


69 


of plant, to enclose, to help, to quarrel, to walk, to answer. It 
would be next to impossible to interpret the written symbol 
correctly, were not a separate ideogram adopted for each idea. 
This necessary device, however, involved the wholesale multi- 
plication of characters. Over 40,000 are contained in the 
fullest dictionaries ; but three-fourths of this number are al- 
most wholly unknown, and only about 5,000 are in common 
use. 

It is interesting to notice how, in the course of ages, the 
old hieroglyphics have been transformed into the present 
characters. The symbol representing the verb to listen, two 


IS now 




Two shells exactly alike originally stood 


folding-doors and an ear between them 
written 

for two friends symbol has been changed 


to 




A mountain is now 


2^; a field g|. 


The 


most complicated modern character is made by fifty -two 
strokes of the pen. 

Antiquity of Chinese Literature.— China prides herself on 
her antiquity, and her literature carries us back to the remot- 
est past. From those early days to the present the chain is 
almost unbroken, notwithstanding the irreparable loss sus- 
tained when the ruthless Ching Wang destroyed the great bulk 
of Chinese literature (220-205 B.C.). This emperor is noted 
for his erection of the Great Wall, and notorious for his con- 
tempt of learning. Thinking to reconcile the masses to his 
despotism by keeping them in ignorance, and to deceive pos- 
terity with the belief that he had founded the empire, he or- 
dered all books, except those on husbandr}^, divination, and 
medicine, to be burned. Any person found with a book in his 
possession was condemned to labor four years on the Great 


70 


CHINESE LITERATURE. 


Wall, and several hundred scholars who resisted the royal de* 
cree were buried alive. 

The dynasty of “ the book-burner,” however, was not long 
after overthrown ; and among the succeeding princes was 
found a “ restorer of literature,” who collected and preserved 
for future generations the writings which, concealed by the 
people in the walls of their houses or buried beneath the beds 
of streams, had escaped destruction. To his praiseworthy ef- 
forts we are indebted for all that remains of the ancient liter- 
ature, — the Sacred Books of China, edited by Confu'cius her 
admirable philosopher, as well as for the works of Confucius 
himself and his disciples. 

Confucius, to whom we are thus introduced, the revere?td 
master^ the beloved teacher of his countrymen, stands out in 
bold relief as the most distinguished personage in Chinese 
history. His birth, which took place 55 1 B.C., was mysterious- 
ly predicted, as legend tells us, on a precious stone found in 
his father’s garden : “ A child is about to be born, pure as the 
crystal wave ; he shall be a king, but without territorial do- 
minion.” Wonderfully has this prophecy been fulfilled ; the 
child, as we shall see, became a king whose subjects were 
numbered by hundreds of millions. 

Born in an evil age, when corruption had undermined the 
government, and misrule and violence were everywhere rife, 
Confucius early dedicated himself to the cause of social and 
political reform. At twenty-two he entered upon his work as 
a teacher, thoroughly fitted for the high vocation, for he had 
been so eager after knowledge as to feel no toil in its pursuit, 
and sometimes even to forget his food. His merits were rec- 
ognized; and when at last he was raised to the position of 
prime-minister, he labored in season and out of season for the 
welfare of his people — and with the best results. But then, 
as now, princes were ungrateful, and the neglect of his sover- 
eign led to his resignation. Henceforth the mission of Con- 


CONFUCIUS. 


71 


fucius, no less useful if humbler than before, was simply to 
disseminate his precepts, wandering from state to state among 
the fifteen millions who constituted the population of what was 
then China. Occupied thus and with the study of the Sacred 
Books, he finally found rest in his native state, and there passed 
his declining years in the midst of loving disciples, “ uncon- 
scious,” as he tells us, “ that he had reached old age.” He 
died at seventy-three, lamenting that, despite his prolonged 
efforts, so little had been accomplished toward elevating the 
moral standard of the nation. 

Yet after his death, his influence was destined far to exceed 
his most sanguine longings ; it has been greater than that of 
any other human teacher. No other has ever spoken to so 
many millions, or received such honors from posterity. For 
more than twenty centuries, his precepts have been taught in 
the schools of China (and each little village has its common 
school) ; at stated times, every scholar, on entering in the 
morning, still bows in adoration before a tablet sacred to Con- 
fucius. The learned can repeat page 
after page from his classical books; 
and scores of his maxims are familiar 
to the masses, who have positively no 
other moral law to guide them. His 
tomb, approached by an avenue of cy- 
presses through a gate of exquisite work- 
manship, is inscribed with the words, 

“The most sagely ancient Teacher; the 
all -accomplished, all -informed King.” 

About the spot are imperial tablets 
“ with glowing tributes to the one man 
whom China delights to honor ;” and 
in the city near by live 50,000 of his de- 
scendants, constituting a distinct class 

— the head of the family holding large Conffotan Priest. 



72 


CHINESE LITEKATUKE. 


estates as “ Duke by imperial appointment and hereditary 
right, continuator of the sage.” There is a temple of Confu- 
cius in every city, and Confucian priests superintend various 
ceremonies for both mandarins and common people. 

Tenets of Confucius. — Confucius claimed no divine inspira- 
tion; he founded no new religion. To him the Almighty was 
“the Unknown God,” and there was no Paul to declare him 
to the philosopher. He avoided referring to a personal Su- 
preme Being, and thought that the study of themselves should 
suffice for men. As to death and a future state, he was 
equally reticent. “While you do not know life,” he said to 
an inquiring disciple, “ what can you know about death .?” 
With polygamy, then an institution of his country, he found 
no fault ; and for women as such he appears to have had 
no kindly word, or very elevated regard. 

The aim of Confucius was to inculcate certain lofty princi- 
ples of conduct, to govern men in their relations to each other 
and to the ruling powers. Respect for learning, filial piety,* 
and veneration for the men and institutions of ancient days, 
were corner-stones of his system, and are still 
deeply impressed on the Chinese mind. His 
golden rule “ What you do not like when done to 
yourself, do not to others ” — expressed in written 
language by a single ideogram — was the one word 
he specially commended as embodying the sum 
and substance of duty. 

* We find one phase of this in the worship of ancestral tablets. 
These are of wood, a foot high, and bear the name of the departed 
ancestor, the hour of his birth, and that of his decease. They 
are worshipped twice a month with tapers and burning incense. 
Death is believed to liberate three spirits from the tenement of 
clay; while one of these occupies the grave, and another seeks 
the invisible world, the third is supposed to take up its habita- 
tion in the tablet erected by filial reverence. The accompanying 
engraving shows one of these ancestral tablets with its inscription 
ii> Chinese. {Read Du Dose's The Dragon, Image, and Demon."^ 




THE CHINESE CLASSICS. 


18 


The practical workings of this rule, as enforced by the au- 
thority of the great master, were recently exemplified in the 
case of an American traveller. As he and his companion 
were passing through a Chinese town, their strange faces and 
unusual costumes attracted a crowd, and hooting seemed likely 
to be followed by serious violence. With admirable presence 
of mind, one of the strangers faced the throng, and amid a 
shower of mud and stones exclaimed : “ Is this the way, O 
people ! that you obey the precepts of your philosophers, to 
treat strangers within your walls tenderly? Have you for- 
gotten the saying of your great master Confucius, — “That 
which I wish another not to do to me, I must not do to 
him ?” The effect was electric. In a moment every hand 
was lowered, and the recent assailants sought as best they 
could to make amends for their rudeness. 

The Chinese Classics comprise the Sacred Books already 
alluded to, viz., the Five King ; also the Four Shoo, or Books 
of the Philosophers (Confucius and the writers of his school). 
Kifig is the equivalent of our word text, and the Five Sacred 
Texts are the Ym King, Book of Changes ; the Shoo King, 
Book of History ; the She King, Book of Poetry ; the Le Ke 
King, Book of Rites ; and the Spring and Autumn, an histor- 
ical record of events in the native state of Confucius, from 721 
to 480 B.C. It was written by that philosopher himself, who 
so entitled it because “ its commendations were life-giving like 
spring, and its censures life-withering like autumn.” The first 
four King, which rank with the most ancient creations of the 
human mind, were compiled and published by Confucius; the 
Book of Rites, originally drawn up by the ruler of Chow in 
the twelfth century B.C., received additions from subsequent 
writers. {See yohnson's “ Oriental Religions : China”) 

Little is known of the true nature of the mysterious Book 
of Changes ; it apparently relates to divination. The Shoo 
King gives us the history of China from the earliest periods to 


74 


CHINESE LITERATURE. 


about 720 B.C., and contains, besides, discourses on music, 
astronomy, and the principles of government. Part of it was 
dictated from memory by a blind man after the destruction of 
the original tablets. 

In the She King, we have a collection of 305 odes and 
hymns. Many of them, more than three thousand years old, 
were written while the Chinese Empire was as yet a mere 
bundle of feudal states ; here, as in all other lands, the first 
grand thoughts of the people were cast in the mould of poetry. 
The odes are in rhyme, and mirror the every-day life and sim- 
ple manners of antiquity — often in a highly metaphorical style, 
but with a dignity and attractiveness which the later poetry 
fails to exhibit. They paint pleasing pictures of rural quiet, 
contain delicate touches of nature, and in some few cases dis- 
play a high appreciation of woman’s worth; on the whole, 
however, the status assigned to the gentler sex is low. Ex- 
tracts from the Book of Poetry follow. 

FESTAL ODE. 

(Celebrating a feast given by an ancient king.) 

See how the rushes spring 
Thickly along the way ! 

Ye browsing herds, no foot 
Upon those rushes lay! 

Grown to their height ere long. 

They soft and rich shall shine ; 

Close as the rushes grow. 

Should brethren all combine. 

Let all at feast appear, 

None absent, none thought mean. 

Mats for the young be spread! 

On stools let elders lean ! 

Lo ! double mats are spread. 

And stools are featly set. 

Servants in waiting stand ; 

See ! host and guests are ineL 

He pledges them ; they him ; 

He drinks, again they fill. 


EXTRACTS FROM THE BOOK OF POETRY. 


^5 


Sauces and pickles come, 

Roast meat, and broiled ; and still 
Palates and tripe are brought. 

Then lutes and drums appear. 
Singers fine concord make — 

The joyous feasters hear. 

The feasting o’er, from bow. 

Lacquered and strong and bright, 
Four well-poised shafts each sends, 
That in the target light. 

The guests are ranged as they 
The mark have nearest hit. 

They shoot again ; the shafts 
Are fairly lodged in it. 

Their bearing then is judged; 

Each takes his final place. 

As mild propriety 

Has round him thrown its grace^ 

The long-descended king 
Presides and ends the feast. 

With spirits sweet and strong 
From vase he cheers each guest. 
And for the old he prays. 

While all with rapture glow. 

That they the wrinkled back 
And whitening hair may show ; 
Striving with mutual help 
In virtue’s onward ways. 

That brightest happiness 

May crown their latest days.” 

Legge. 


PASTORAL ODE. 

(An industrious wife wakens her husband at early dawn.) 

“^Get up, husband, here’s the day!’ 

‘Not yet, wife, the dawn’s still gray.’ 

‘Get lip, sir, and on the right. 

See the morning-star shines bright. 

Shake off slumber, and prepare 
Ducks and geese to shoot and snare. 

All your darts and line may kill, 

I will dress for you with skill. 


76 


CHINESE LITEEATUKE. 


Thus a blithesome hour we’ll pass, 
Brightened by a cheerful glass; 
While your lute its aid imparts, 

To gratify and soothe our hearts.* •’ 
Legge. 


ODE TO A BRIDE. 

“ Gay child of Spring, the garden’s Queer'. 

Yon peach-tree charms the roving sight ; 

Its fragrant leaves, how richly green ! 

Its blossoms, how divinely bright ! 

So softly smiles the blooming bride. 

By love and conscious virtue led, 

O’er her new mansion to preside. 

And placid joys around her spread.’’ 

Sir William Jones. 

The Book of Rites prescribes rules of conduct for all occa* 
sions, from the most important down to a mere interchange 
of greetings. With Chinamen ceremonial is everything, and 
the influence which this book has exerted on manners and 
society for three thousand years cannot be estimated. It is 
still the standard of etiquette, a governing board at Pekin 
being charged with the duty of enforcing its rigid observance. 

Spring and Autumn, professedly written in the interests of 
morality and good order, to inspire wicked officials and undu- 
tiful sons with wholesome terror, disappoints us in the reading. 
It is made up of short, unconnected sentences, stating isolated 
facts (some of them quite insignificant) in the baldest manner, 
without any attempt at rhetorical excellence or any expression 
of condemnation or praise. Whether a temple is struck by 
lightning, or a father is murdered by his son, or locusts ap- 
pear, or some glorious exploit is performed, or the ruler goes 
on a journey, or the sun is eclipsed — it is just stated in so 
many words — nothing more. The historical style of Con- 
fucius is certainly not striking, and we fail to see why the 


AXALECTS OF CONFUCIUS. 


77 


guilty should have “quaked with fear” when his annals ap- 
peared. 

The Four Shoo are constituted as follows: l.The Confu 
cian Analects (literary fragments), 2. The Great Learning. 
3. The Doctrine of the Mean (as opposed to extremes — the 
Moderate). 4. The works of Mencius, or the philosopher 
Meng, a disciple of Confucius, and second only to his mas- 
ter among the sages of China. 

The Analects consist of the sayings of Confucius, as they 
occur in conversations with his followers. Sententious, sim- 
ple, and sometimes signally beautiful, they contain the very 
marrow of wisdom based upon observation and experience. 
They shine among the laconics of the world. A few speci- 
mens are subjoined. 


EXTRACTS FROM THE ANALECTS. 

“ The Master said : ‘ lu the Book of Poetry are three hundred 
pieces, but the design of all may be embraced in one sentence — Have 
no depraved thoughts.’ 

There are cases in which the blade springs, but the plant does not 
go on to flower. There are cases where it flowers, but no fruit is 
subsequently produced. 

Learning without thought is labor lost; thought without learning 
is perilous. 

Worship as if the Deity were present. 

Good government obtains when those who are near are made 
happy, and those who are far oif are attracted. 

Three friendships are advantageous, — friendsliip with the upright, 
friendship with the sincere, and friendship with the man of observa- 
tion. Three are injurious, — friendship with tlie man of specious 
airs, friendship with the insinuatingly soft, and friendship with the 
glib-tongiied. 

To see what is right and not to do it, is want of courage. 

The cautious seldom err. 

If I am building a mountain, and stop before the last basketful of 
earth is placed on the summit, I have filled of my work. But if I 
have placed but one basketful on the plain and go on, I am really 
building a mountain. 

Shall I teach you what knowledge is? When you know a thing, 
to hold that you know it ; and when you do not know a thing, to 
confess your ignorance — is knowledge. 

D 


78 


CHINESE LITERATURE. 


Extravagance leads to insubordination, and parsimony to mean, 
ness. It is better to be mean than insubordinate. 

Learn the past, and you will know the future. 

A poor man who flatters not and a rich man who is not prond, are 
passable characters ; but they are not equal to the poor who are yet 
cheerful, and the rich who yet love the rules of propriety. 

When you transgress, fear not to return. 

Were I to say that the departed were possessed of consciousness, 
I)ious sons might dissipate their fortunes in festivals of the dead ; 
and were I to deny their consciousness, heartless sous might leave 
their fathers uubnried. 

With coarse rice to eat, water to drink, and my bended arm for a 
pillow — I have still happiness even with these ; but riches and hon- 
ors acquired by unrighteousness are to me as a floating cloud. 

What the superior man seeks is in himself; what the small man 
seeks is in others.” 

The Great Learning, based on the teachings of Confucius, 
and ascribed to one or more of his followers, evinces political 
sagacity in its suggestions for the perfecting of government, 
insisting that the welfare of the people should be the single 
aim, and scouting the idea of any divine right in kings to 
rule except in accordance with the principles of justice and 
virtue. 


EXTRACTS FROM THE GREAT LEARNING. 

“The ancients who wished to establish illustrious virtue through- 
out the empire, lii st ordered well their own stares. Wishing to order 
well their states, they first regulated their families. Wishing to 
regulate their families, they first cultivated their persons. Wishing 
to cultivate their persons, they first rectified their hearts. 

From the loving example of one family, a whole state becomes lov- 
ing; and from its courtesies, the whole state becomes courteous: 
while from the ambition and perverseness of one man, the whole state 
may be led to rebellious disorder: such is the nature of influence. 
This verifies the saying : ‘Affairs may be ruined by a single sentence; 
a kingdom may be settled by its one man.’ 

It is not possible for one to teach others, while he cannot teach 
his own family. There is filial piety, there is fraternal submission, 
there is kindness. Therefore the ruler, without going beyond his 
family, completes the lessons for the state. 

Never has there been a case of the sovereign loving benevolence, 
and the people not loving righteousness. Never has there been a 
case where the people loved righteousness, and the affairs of the sove- 
reign have not been carried to completion. 


DOCTRINE OF THE MEAN. 


V9 


What a man dislikes in liis superiors, let him not display in the 
treatment of his inferiors; what he dislikes in inferiors, let him not 
display in the service of his superiors. What lie hates in tliose who 
are before him, let him not therewith precede those who are behind 
him. What he is unwilling to receive on the right, let him not be- 
stow on the left. This is what is called ‘ Tbe principle with which, 
as with a measuring-square, to regulate one’s conduct.’ ” 

The Doctrine of the Mean was written by the grandson of 
Confucius, who in his boyhood listened to the wise instructions 
of the sage, and professed himself ready to carry “ the bundle 
of firewood his grandsire had gathered and prepared,” thus 
leading Confucius to exclaim with delight: “ My undertakings 
will not come to naught; they will be carried on, and flourish.” 
The philosophy of this work is obscure; for while it presents 
examples of filial piety, and draws an ideal of the perfect man, 
“ possessed of all sagely qualities,” who alone is able to “ ac- 
cord with the course of the Mean,” its language with reference 
to that Mean is decidedly mystical. Thus : — 

“ While there are no stirrings of pleasure, anger, sorrow, or joy, the 
mind may be said to be in a state of equilibrium. When those feel- 
ings have been stirred and act in their due degree, there ensues what 
may be called the state of harmony. This equilibrium is the great 
root from which grow all the human actings in the world, and this 
harmony is the universal path which they all should pursue. 

Let the states of equilibrium and harmony exist in perfection, and 
a happy order will prevail throughout heaven and earth, and all 
things will flourish. 

The Master said : — ‘ Perfect is the virtue which is according to the 
Mean. Rare have they long been among the j>eople, who could prac- 
tise it! I know how it is that the path of the Mean is not walked 
in : the knowing go beyond it, and the stupid do not come up to it.’ ” 

Mencius, author of the fourth Shoo, lived in a degenerate 
ajre, but without fear or favor threw himself into the arena to 
wrestle with wickedness. In the society around him he found 
many fitting marks for his shafts of humor and satire. Purifi- 
cation of heart was his remedy for evil; the sinlessness of 
childhood, his standard of moral purity. “The great man,” 
said Mencius, “is he who does not lose his child’s heart.’' 


80 


CHINESE LITERATURE. 


Virtue and benevolence are insisted on in the voluminous 
works of this philosopher— the Plato of Chinese literature as 
Confucius was its Socrates*— a benevolence that should not 
only provide for the physical wants of the people, but also se- 
cure their education and moral advancement. We glean the 
following pointed sentences from the 

SAYINGS OF MENCIUS. 

I like life and I also like righteonsuess. If I cannot keep the 
two together, I will let life go au<l choose righteousness. 

When one by force subdues men, they do not submit to him in 
heart, but because their strength is not adequate to resist. When 
one subdues men by virtue, in their heart’s core they are pleased, and 
sincerely submit, as was the case with the seventy disciples in their 
submission to Confucius. 

The noblest thing in the world is the people. To them the spir- 
its of the earth and the fruits of the earth are inferior. The prince 
is least important of all. 

Benevolence brings glory, its oj>posite brings disgrace. 

That whereby man differs from the animals is small. Superior 
men preserve it, while the mass of men cast it away. 

There is a way to get the kingdom ; get the people, and the king- 
dom is got. There is a way to get the people ; get their hearts, and 
the people are got. The people turn to a benevolent rule as water 
Hows downward. 

Mencius said: ‘The richest fruit of benevolence is the service 
of one’s parents ; of righteousness, the service of one’s elder brother ; 
of wisdom, the knowing those two things and not departing from 
them.’ ” 

Spirit of the Chinese Classics. — One prevailing spirit 
breathes through the nine classical books of the Chinese 
— a spirit of conservatism. Confucius nowhere encourages 
men to take independent flights into the realms of original 
thought. He ignores the future, and exalts the past. His 
motto was not Go up higher, but Walk in the trodden paths. 

* The two Chinese philosophers remind us of the two Greeks, not only by the 
moral tone of their teachings, but by their relative positions as master and fob 
lower. Nor were their respective eras widely apart ; compare their dates — 

The master, Confucius, 551-478 B.C. The master, Socrates, 470 399 B.C. 

The disciple, Mencius, 370-288 B.C. The pupil, Plato, 429-348 B.C. 


THE CHINESE CLASSICS. 


81 



He sought to reclaim from sin and folly, but only by winning 
to the purer practices of that venerable antiquity which he 
so blindly admired. Beyond the old landmarks, he cared 
not even to point the way. (See Grafs Chma^^^ p. 75.) 

It is hardly strange that under such leadership the nation 
became wedded to formalism, wrapped itself in a complacent 
aversion to novelty or progress, eschewed dealings with the 
outer world, and in a word came to an intellectual standstill 
for four and twenty centuries. 

Other Works. — There are numerous commentaries on the 
old classics, some themselves quite ancient ; but they are mere 
reproductions or servile imitations of the original texts. 



82 


CHINESE LITERATURE. 


Different, however, are the works of Lao-Tse, who was coh 
temporary with Confucius, and whose writings are so mystical 
that the matter-of-fact Confucius declared himself unable to 
comprehend them. He made something which he calls Tao 
the mainspring of the universe, the source and ultimate desti- 
nation of all things. Many of his followers, to whom he rec- 
ommended self-denial and retirement, became recluses; their 
philosophy was perpetuated, and Taoism is still professed to 
some extent in China. 

Having little imagination for works of fiction and no genius 
for the higher departments of poetry, the ancient Chinese pro- 
duced nothing of special note — nothing, at least, that has come 
down to us — except what has been mentioned. We have in- 
deed numerous chronicles of the various dynasties, industri- 
ously and no doubt accurately compiled ; but they lack the 
graces of style, and possess little interest for the general Eu- 
ropean reader. The Bamboo Annals, found in a royal tomb 
284 A.D., is the oldest of these chronicles that have thus far 
come to light. 

We are also told that before the Christian Era numerous 
treatises were written on philosophy, mathematics, medicine, 
military affairs, husbandry, law, and geography; but many of 
these perished in the convulsions which afterward shook the 
empire. (On the religious books of China, consult Max Mul- 
ler’s '‘’‘Sacred Books of the Eastf vols. xvi.y xxvii.) 

With the languages of Siam, Burmah, and Thibet — all mon- 
osyllabic like the Chinese — are also connected literatures 
of considerable antiquity. In both Burmah and Siam the 
drama, often licentious, has always been popular, its exhi- 
bitions being sometimes prolonged for days. Burmah has 
records that purport to carry back its history almost to the 
Christian Era. The best writings of the Siamese are imita- 
tions of Hindoo fictions, while the literature of Thibet is 
largely made up of commentaries on the Tripitaka. 


WRITING. — BOOKS. — PRINTING. 


83 


NOTES ON CHINESE LITERATURE, ETC. 


Bamboo tablets and the stylus, the ancient writing implements; these in the 
reign of Ching Wang, the book-burner, superseded by the brush, and paper made 
of closely woven silk. Silk paper, found too expensive, re- 
placed in turn by paper made of the inner bark of trees, old 
rags, and w’orn-out tishing-nets. Books multiply in conse- 
quence. At the Christian Era, the imperial library con- 
tained 11,332 sections tilled with books on all subjects, but 
no great productions of genius. The old classics still in 
the front rank. 

Printing practised in China 600 A.D., nearly 900 years 
before its invention in Europe. Movable types invented 
by a blacksmith between 1000 and 1100 A.D. The types, 
made of clay hardened in the fire, reduced to an exact level 
by a smooth board, and then cemented to an iron plate with 
a mixture of resin and wax. The production of books thus 
greatly facilitated. Chinese books at the present day not 
printed from movable types, but from wooden blocks of the 
size of the page, on which the characters are cut in relief. 

Bronze pieces called cash, worth one-tenth of a cent, 
coined as early as the 12th century B.C. ; strung on cords 
through holes with which they are pierced ; in later times 
worn as amulets. 

The golden age of China’s later ancient literature, the 
period of the Tang dynasty (620-907 A.D.), when the imperial armies penetrated 
to Samarcand and Bokhara in Turkestan. Le Taipih, the Chinese Anacreon, 
the greatest poet of this period ; but even he seldom rises above mediocrity. 



Speoimrn Cash. 


CHAPTER lY. 

HEBREW LITERATURE. 

The Semitic Languages, enumerated on page i6, have cer- 
tain peculiarities in common : — 

They are triliteral, i. e. three consonants enter into the com- 
position of every root. Consonants only are represented by 
letters ; vowels, indicated by points and lines, play a subordi- 
nate part. The latter vary according to the relation to be 


84 


HEBREW LITERATURE. 


expressed ; while the consonant root, which conveys the lead- 
ing idea, remains for the most part unchanged. Thus, in 
Arabic, the notion of bloodshed is expressed by the triple 
root q 1 1 ; quail is murder; quitl, enemy ; uqtul means to kill ; 
quatala^ he kills. The picturesque compounds, so convenient 
in the Indo-European languages, are here wanting. 

The Semitic verb is deficient in mood-forms, and has in 
general only two tenses, which represent action completed 
and action continuing. Case, in the later developments of the 
different languages, is left undistinguished. Brevity is gained, 
but at the expense of precision. 

Distribution of the Semitic Tongues. — The great divisions 
of the Semitic family of languages are designated as Northern 
and Southern Senutic. They include the Arama'ic, Hebraeo- 
Phoenician, and Arabic, which are much more alike than the 
Aryan tongues. Assyrio-Babylonian occupies a peculiar po- 
sition between the Northern and Southern Semitic groups. 

Aramaic (from the Hebrew Aram — highlands) was spoken 
in northern Syria, Mesopotamia, and Babylonia. A dialect 
of it, the Jews gradually adopted after their return from cap- 
tivity at Babylon (536 B.C.), retaining the Hebrew as their 
sacred language, but speaking and writing in Aramaic some- 
what modified by Greek. Aramaic, therefore, was the tongue 
in which our Lord and his disciples conversed. 

The Hebraeo-Phcenician was spread over Palestine, and in- 
cluded the dialects of the Ammonites, Moabites, and Phi- 
listines. Samaritan was a development of the Western Ara- 
maic, corrupted by the speech of foreign settlers introduced 
into the land of Israel by the Assyrians, to replace the Ten 
Tribes whom they had transplanted beyond the Euphrates. 

The softer Arabic, musical by reason of its preponderance 
of vowel sounds, was carried from Arabia into Africa, where it 
was long the language of the cultivated Ethiopians, and where 
it still survives in its Abyssinian derivatives, the Amharic, etc. 

The Ancient Hebrew shares the imperfections of the Semitic 


THE SEMITIC LANGUAGES. 


85 



group to which it belongs. It is one of the oldest members 
of this family, and was long thought to have been the original 
language of the human race. Its name is derived by some 
from Heber, ancestor of Abraham and consequently of the 
people who spoke the classical tongue of the Old Testament ; 
while by many it is believed to mean belonging to the other side, 
that is, of the Jordan — an epithet applicable to the Chosen 
People as coming from beyond that river to dispossess the 
Canaanitish tribes. 

In the days of the patriarch Abraham, whose father dwelt 
in “Ur of the Chaldees” (see Map, p. 105), about 2000 B.C., 
the Semitic dialects differed slightly, if at all. Recently sep- 

I) 2 



86 


HEBREW LITERATURE. 


arated from the primitive stock, they possessed the same roots, 
the same grammatical forms and inflections, and conspicuous- 
ly agreed in regard to rules of order and construction. 

The meagre vocabulary and other defects of the Hebrew 
are counterbalanced by its euphony, simplicity, and power of 
poetical expression. Conciseness is its crowning merit. A 
single sonorous word often conveys an idea that would require 
a clause of four or five words in English. The whole range 
of literature in other fields affords no such examples of majes- 
tic thought, grand imagery, and impetuous, heart-warming out- 
pourings of soul, as the poetry of that sublime Hebrew tongue 
which was developed by a simple race of shepherds beneath 
the mild skies of western Asia. 

The Hebrew Alphabet. — The Hebrews early profited by the 
invention of their Phoenician kinsmen, borrowing’ from them 
an alphabet which, as may be seen on the opposite page, they 
changed little from the original. After the Captivity (588- 
536 B.C.), the more elegant square characters from the Ara- 
maic took the place of the ancient letters; the latter, how- 
ever, for reasons political 
as well as religious, were 
reproduced on the shekels 
coined during the period 
of Jewish independence 
under the Maccabees 
(168-37 B.C.), by which 
time the written language was universally expressed in Ara- 
maic characters. {See Landes Hebrew Grammar.’’^) 

The oldest Hebrew alphabet (see Table) contained no more 
than ten or twelve letters ; the number was afterward in- 
creased to twenty-two — consonants all. These were qualified 
by vowel sounds, denoted by vowel-points (.- *., T) placed 
over or under the consonants to which they belonged. Capi- 
tals there were none. — While some have held that the names 



Aleph 

Beth 

Giniel 

Daleth 

He 

Van 

Zayin 

Cheth 

Teth 

Yod 

Kaph 

Lamed 

Mem 

Nun 

Samekh 

Ayin 

Pe 

; Tsade 

' Koph 

Resh ■ 

Shin 

Tau 

j Hebrew 

1 Names of 
j Letters, 

Ox 

House 

Camel 

Door 

Window 

Hook 

Weapon 

Fence 

Snake 

Hand 

Bent Hand 

Ox-goad 

Water 

Fish 

Post 

Eye 

Mouth 

Javelin ? 

Knot ? 

Head 

Tooth 

Sign (Cross) 

1 

K a 
“ ^ 

^S. 

cc\a 

5 ‘ 

1 

A 1 

B ! 

G 

D 

H,E 

V 

Z 

Ch 

Th 

Y, I, J 
C, Ch 

L 

M 

N 

S 

0 

P, Ph 

Ts 

K,Q 

R 

Sh 

T, Th 

English 

Equiva- 

lent. 


u 

WWW 

i?( 


Egyptian (translit- 
eration). 

Hieroglyphic. Hieratic. 


^7 ^ ^ o'”! 


Ancient 

Phoenician. 

/ V J ' 

^ J N. 


Old Hebrew. 


Square 

Hebrew. 

i ? 2i: J ® 

ri > 

aOld^S>t^^ 0 KN w>aw> 

Old and 
Later Greek. 


Old and 
Later Latin. 


> 

n 


, ^ 


> 

t-* 

> 

w 

w 

oi 


88 


HEBREW LITERATURE. 


ot the letters were given them arbitrarily, merely to facilitate 
the memorizing of the alphabet, others believe that a con- 
nection existed between their names and their forms : that, 
for example. A, called Aleph (ox), was originally a rough 
picture of an ox’s head ; that B was the representation of a 
house or tent, such being the meaning of its name Beth^ etc. 

Spirit of Hebrew Poetry. — The most ancient Semitic poetry 
is found in the pure musical Hebrew of the oldest books of 
the Bible. Nearly one half of the Old Testament was in verse, 
mainly lyrical, ranging from the simplest song or dirge to the 
sublimest strains of prophecy j yet didactic poetry has also a 
place, for in it were embodied the proverbs of Israel’s wise 
men. 

Other literatures boast of their epics and dramas ; but the 
Hebrew, without either, has exerted a far more exalted influ- 
ence on the human mind than any other. In vain do we 
search the Veda and the Avesta for conceptions as grand as 
those in the Scriptures. God is apprehended in all his maj- 
esty by the Hebrew bards, and speaks through them to na- 
tions that are yet to be. The Bible poets wrote not merely 
for the purpose of pleasing ; as teachers and prophets, they 
had a divine mission and a loftier aim. The graces of rhetoric 
were employed to present their impressive subjects in the 
strongest and clearest light. Frequent metaphors embellished 
their style, and striking personifications endowed it with life 
and energy. Imagery drawn from the picturesque scenes 
about them, — the hills, the streams, the plains of Palestine, — 
or from their every-day employments as tillers and herdsmen, 
they used without stint ; while pa7‘allelism^ whether it consisted 
in the repetition of the same sentiment or in a contrasting of 
opposite ideas, was a peculiar beauty of their poetry. 

Their language significant and striking, their thoughts lofty 
and solemn, their tone severely moral, their themes of the 
deepest interest to man, what wonder that the Hebrew poets 


PARALLELISM IN HEBREW POETRY. 


89 


tower above the sublimest writers of other times and coun- 
tries ? “Whatever in our literature,” says Taylor, “ possesses 
most of simple majesty and force, whatever is most fully 
fraught with feeling, whatever draws away the soul from its 
cleaving to the dust and lifts the thoughts toward a brighter 
sphere — all such elements we owe directly or indirectly to 
the Hebrew Scriptures, especially to those parts that are in 
spirit and form poetic.” 

Parallelism has been mentioned as a distinctive feature of 
Hebrew poetry. This is defined by Bishop Lowth as “ a cer- 
tain equality, resemblance, or relationship between the mem- 
bers of a period, so that things shall answer to things and 
words to words, as if fitted to each other by a kind of rule or 
measure.” 

Parallelism may be either cumulative, antithetical, or con- 
structive. In the first, a proposition, after having been once 
stated, is repeated in equivalent words of similar construc- 
tion, as in Isaiah, Iv., 6, 7 : — 

“ Seek ye the Lord, while he may be found ; 

Call ye upon him, while he is near. 

Let the wicked forsake his way. 

And the unrighteous man his thoughts : 

And let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; 
And to our God, for he will abundantly pardou.” 

Antithetical parallelism is similar, except that the two pe- 
riods correspond with each other by an opposition of senti- 
ments and terms ; as in Proverbs, xxvii., 6 

“Faithful are the wounds of a friend; 

But deceitful are the kisses of an enemy.” 

In the third kind of parallelism, there is neither correspond- 
ence nor opposition in the sentiment, but simply a similarity 
of construction in the two periods, as in Psalm xix., 8, 9 ; — 

“The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart ; 

The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening tlie eyes. 


90 


HEBREW LITERATURE. 


The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever ; 

The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.’^ 

DAWN OF HEBREW LITERATURE. 

There is good reason for believing that the ancient He- 
brews had an extensive literature ; but out of their “ multi- 
tude of books,” all that have descended to us are those of 
the Old Testament. Their secular poetical and prose works 
are wholly lost. 

The Books of Moses. — The earliest Hebrew writer of whom 
we have positive knowledge was Moses, author of the greater 
part of the Pentateuch* {Jive volumes — the first five books of 
the Bible), or, as it was called by the Jews, the Book of the 
Law. 

The first book of the Pentateuch, Genesis {the generation), 
tells us all that we know of the Creation, the Deluge, the 
Confusion of languages, the Dispersion, and the lives of the 
patriarchs, whose history it sketches till the death of Joseph 
in Egypt, keeping everywhere prominent the relation of Je- 
hovah to the chosen race. 

Exodus {the going out) continues the story of the Hebrews 
from the death of Joseph, relates their oppression under the 
Pharaoh Ram'eses the Great, their miraculous escape from 
the land of bondage in the reign of his successor, and the 
promulgation of the commandments on Mount Sinai. It is in 
this book that we catch an early glimpse of Hebrew poetry in 


Some hold that the Pentateuch was compiled by Moses from extant writ- 
ings of an earlier period ; others believe it to have been reduced ^o its present 
form at a much later date ; while many theologians ascribe it all to Moses, ex- 
cept the part that relates to his death and a few interpolated sentences. Its au- 
thenticity as part of God’s Word has been disputed from time to time, and par- 
ticularly in these later days ; but neither Jews nor Christians doubt its inspira- 
tion, though they admit that in parts its meaning may have been misconceived. 
We have here to do with it, as with other parts of the Bible, simply as a literary 
work. (/See Ratolinson's “ Historical Illustrations of the Old Testament.") 


THE BOOKS OF MOSES. 


91 


the Song of Moses and his sister Miriam — a magnificent tri- 
umphal ode, the most ancient in any language. The rescued 
host pour forth in unison their joy and gratitude ; while in 
response the exulting prophetess, timbrel in hand, leads the 
women of Israel, on the shore of that sea which had engulf- 
ed their enemies, to celebrate their deliverance with sacred 
dance and rapturous verse. (See Exodus, chapter xv.) 

Leviticus (the book pertaining to the Levites) consists of 
regulations relative to worship and sacrifice, together with 
historical items touching the consecration of Aaron, his first 
offering, and the destruction of two of his sons for their im- 
piety. Here is developed the theocratic system that lay at 
the base of Hebrew society. 

Numbers takes its name from the numbering of the Israel- 
ites in the wilderness of Sinai ; it gives an account of this 
census, and continues their history during thirty-seven years 
of subsequent wandering, up to their arrival on the borders 
of the Promised Land. In this book there are several brief 
specimens of poetry, commemorative of victory, of the digging 
of a well in the wilderness, etc. 

In Deuteronomy (the second law) the law is repeated and 
explained by Moses in three fervid discourses, just before 
the entrance of the Hebrews into Canaan. The Pentateuch 
closes with a simple but inexpressibly grand outburst of the 
Hebrew legislator in song (chapter xxxii.), the blessings he 
pronounces upon the twelve tribes, and an account of his 
death. 

Of the facts presented in these first five books of the Old 
Testament, some are confirmed by hieroglyphic inscriptions 
and the traditions of different nations ; but of the greater 
part we should have had no knowledge without the inspired, 
narrative. Aside, therefore, from its religious bearing, the 
Pentateuch is invaluable as an historical record. of primeval 
ages ; while its clear, concise, dignified style, rich with noble 


92 


HEBREW LITERATURE. 


thoughts expressed in the venerable manner of antiquity, is 
worthy of its sublime subjects. 

The Historical Books. — The Pentateuch is followed by the 
historical books of Scripture, which, though extending into 
the silver age, will for convenience’ sake be here considered 
together. With the Pentateuch they form a complete sum- 
mary of national history, in which are interwoven religious 
matters that explain and illustrate it. We may glance briefly 
at their authorship and contents. 

The Book of Joshua, classed with the Pentateuch (the To- 
rah, or Law) under the name of Hexateuch, covers a period 
of twenty-five years (about 1425 B.C.) ; it relates to the con- 
quest of Canaan and the partition of that promised land 
among the twelve tribes, closing with the farewell exhortation 
and death of the great leader. Judges, ascribed to the 
Prophet Samuel, continues the history of the nation to about 
1100 B.C. ; it tells how the Jews, as a punishment for their 
apostasy, were at different times reduced to servitude by their 
heathen enemies, and on their repentance delivered by heroes 
who became their Judges. Ruth, regarded by the ancient 
i Jews as belonging to the Book of Judges, is of unknown date 
I and authorship, though attributed by some to Samuel. It is 
1 an exquisite idyl of domestic life, designed to show the origin 
I of King David. [See Chapinafi's '‘^Hebrew IdylsP) 
j The Books of Samuel, the first portion of which Samuel 
i probably composed himself, give an account of the magistra- 
cy of that prophet and the reigns of Saul and David. The 
Books of the Kings dwell upon the glorious reign of Solo- 
mon, and then take us through the divided lines of Israel and 
Judah, till both were finally overthrown and carried into cap- 
tivity ; Jewish tradition points to Jeremiah as the author of 
these books. Ezra seems to have written most of the Chron- 
icles, which is supplementary to the Kings ; he was also the 
author of the book that bears his name. This and Nehemiah 


THE BOOK OF JOB. 


93 


describe the return of the Jews from their captivity in Baby- 
lon, and the restoration of the temple worship at Jerusalem. 
The Book of Esther is devoted to a touching episode of the 
reign of Ahasuerus, king of Persia, supposed to be identicaj^ 
with Xerxes, the son of Darius Hystaspis. 

The Book of Job is worthy of special mention, as the most 
artistic specimen of Hebrew genius. Whether this unique 
poem was the work of Job himself in his later days, or of some 
other whose name is lost, its author was evidently proficient 
in all the scientific knowledge of his time. The hero, a native 
of northern Arabia, whose name has become a synonym for 
patient suffering, is reduced to the very depths by family be- 
reavements, bodily anguish, and the well-meant reproaches of 
his friends ; yet his faith in God is unshaken, and in the end 
that faith is amply vindicated and rewarded. {See Dr. Rossi- 
ter IV. Raymond's “ The Book of Job.") 

Bold imagery, vividness of description, life-like delineations 
of lofty passion as well as the gentler emotions, combined 
with master-touches of dramatic art, stamp this poem as the 
greatest in Oriental literature. Its passages relating to the 
war-horse, behemoth, and leviathan (chapters xxxix., xL, xli.), 
are cited by writers on the sublime as among the grandest il- 
lustrations of their subject; and its descriptions of the Deity, 
as manifested in his works, exhibit the noblest conceptions of 
the Infinite that man’s finite intellect is capable of forming. 

GOLDEK AGE OF HEBREW POETRY. 

The Psalms. — The flourishing period of David (1085-1015 
B.C.) ushers in the Augustan age of Hebrew poetry. The 
Lyric was then carried to perfection by the poet-king himself 
and his contemporaries in their Psalms, — “ those delicate, fra- 
grant, and lovely flowers,” as Luther calls them, “springing 
up out of all manner of beautiful joyous thoughts toward God 
and his goodness.” The strains of “Israel’s sweet psalmist,” 


94 


HEBREW LITERATURE. 


who began as a shepherd-lad to cultivate the arts of music and 
poetry, breathe a spirit of plaintive tenderness that distin- 
guishes them from the statelier productions of other contrib- 
utors to Hebrew psalmody. 

A utopian theory of the great Plato, but one that he declared 
could be carried out only by “ a god or some divine one,’’ was 
the training of the Grecian youth in odes like the Psalms : and 
this — the religious instruction of the people — was the very ob- 
ject of the Hebrew lyrics. The plan of the Greek philoso- 
pher had been put in practice centuries before his day in Pal- 
estine, and on a far grander scale than ever he imagined. In 
the royal city of Jerusalem, four thousand musicians appointed 
by David chanted hymns of triumph and praise, to the accom- 
paniment of harp and flute ; while in the gorgeous temple of 
David’s son, the sublime worship of Jehovah challenges de- 
scription. 

For three thousand years, these Hebrew anthems, unap- 
proached by the religious songs of any other age or people, 
have been the glory of the Jewish and the Christian Church, 
eloquently testifying that “ there has been one people among 
the nations — one among the millions of the worshippers of 
stocks — taught of God.” 

Many of the Psalms date from David’s time ; one (Psalm 
xc.) carries us as far back as Moses, and others were as late 
as the Captivity. They were probably arranged as we now 
have them in the fifth century B.C. ; though certain critics refer 
some of them to the Maccabean period (second century B.C.). 

Elegiac Poetry. — King David was also a writer of elegy, 
that kind of song in which the Hebrew poets and proph- 
ets poured out their grief in the unaffected language of 
nature. Some of his Psalms are beautiful specimens of 
this species of poetry, especially Psalm xlii., “ As the hart 
panteth after the water -brooks,” composed during his exile 
among the mountains of Lebanon. Another exquisite and 


ELEGIAC POETKV. 


95 


pathetic elegy of this poet, rendered below in English verse 
by Lowth, is the 

LAMENTATION FOR SAUL AND JONATHAN. 

“ Tliy glory, Israel, droops its languid head, 

On Gilboa’s heights thy rising beauty dies; 

In sordid piles there sleep the illustrious dead. 

The mighty victor falhu and v anquished lies. 

Yet dumb be Grief; hushed be her clam’rous voice! 

Tell not in Gath the tidings of our shame I 

Lest proud Philistia in our woes rejoice. 

And rude barbarians blast fair Israel’s fame. 

The sword of Saul ne’er spent its force in air; 

The shaft of Jonathan brought low the brave; 

In life united equal fates they share. 

In death united share one common grave. 

Daughters of Judah ! mourn the fatal day. 

In sable grief attend your monarch’s urn ; 

To solemn notes attune the pensive lay. 

And weep those joys that never shall return. 

With various wealth he made your tents o’erflow, 

In princely pride your charms profusely dressed; 

Bade the rich robe with ardent purple glow. 

And sparkling gems adorn the tissued vest. 

On Gil boa’s heights the mighty vanquished lies, 

The sou of Saul, the generous and the just; 

Let streaming sorrow ever fill these eyes. 

Let sacred tears bedew a brother’s dust. 

Thy firm regard revered thy David’s name. 

And kindest thoughts in kindest acts expressed ; 

Not brighter glows the pure and generous flame 
That liv’^es within the tender virgin’s breast. 

But vain the tear and vain the bursting sigh, 

Though Sion’s echoes with our grief resound ; 

The mighty victors fall’n and v'^anquished lie, 

And war’s refulgent weapons strew the ground.” 

Didactic Poetry. — In the golden age, didactic poetry also 
reached the acme of perfection. The Proverbs that then 


96 


HEBREW LITERATURE. 


flowed from the inspired pen of Solomon, prince of didactic 
writers as his father was of lyric poets, are too well known, 
with all their richness of practical wisdom, to require more than 
a passing mention. Expressed concisely in energetic words, 
according to the different forms of parallelism, these moral pre- 
cepts are indeed “like apples of gold in baskets of silver.” 

Of the same general scope as the Proverbs, and by the same 
author, is Ecclesiastes, or the Preacher. In this book is shown 
the vanity of earthly pleasures ; and the whole duty of man 
is summed up in the sentence, “ Fear God and keep his com- 
mandments.” The Book of Ecclesiastes has been attributed 
to Solomon’s latter days; the Proverbs, to his prime; while 
that sweet pastoral, the Song of Songs — singularly beautiful, 
whether taken literally as an exponent of happy wedded love, 
or allegorically as delineating the mutual attachment of God 
and his people — was the joyous outburst of his youth. Solo- 
mon was also the author of a thousand canticles and various 
works on miscellaneous subjects ; books of making which, he 
tells us, there was no end. 

Prophetic Poetry of the Golden Age. — The writings of the 
earlier prophets, florid with high-wrought imagery, revived for 
a time the waning glories of the golden age. Foremost of this 
class in eloquence of diction, sublimity of thought, and versa- 
tility of genius, stands Isaiah. Majesty united with elaborate 
finish; a harmony that delights the soul; a variety that im- 
parts freshness without detracting from dignity; simplicity and 
unvarying purity of language, — conspire to make the lyric 
verse of “ the Evangelical Prophet ” the most appropriate em- 
bodiment of the awful messages of God to the Jews, the prom- 
ise of a Messiah and universal peace. 

After a career of nearly seventy years, Isaiah sealed his 
great work with his blood in the reign of the idolatrous Ma- 
nasseh (698-643 B.C.). His mind has been pronounced “one 
of the most sublime and variously gifted instruments which 


THE PROPHETIC WRITINGS. 


97 


the Spirit of God has ever employed to pour forth its Voice 
upon the world.” 

Even the minor prophets, if we except Jonah the oldest, ex- 
hibit in their compositions unwonted grandeur and elegance : 
Hosea, with his sententious style; Amos, “the herdman and 
gatherer of sycamore fruit;’* Joel and Micah; Habakkuk, 
whose fervent prayer to the Almighty is graced with the lof- 
tiest embellishments, and Nahum, perhaps the boldest and 
most ardent of all. 

And so the Golden Age of Hebrew Literature ends. We 
know only its sacred poetry, and much indeed of this has dis- 
appeared.* The harvest and vintage songs which wakened 
the echoes amid the vales of Palestine, the pastorals that ac- 
companied the shepherd’s pipe on the hill-sides of Ephraim, 
all are lost forever ; “ the voice of mirth and the voice of glad- 
ness, the voice of the bridegroom and the bride,” were forgot- 
ten in the streets of Jerusalem, when the land was desolate 
under the Babylonian and “ the daughters of music were 
brought low.” 

SILVER AGE. 

The Prophets. — The names of three great prophets — Jere- 
miah, Ezekiel, and Daniel — illuminate the first page in the 
history of the decline of Hebrew literature. But in their writ- 
ings, and notably so in those of the later minor prophets, po- 
etry was evidently on the wane. They lived in a degenerate 
day. About half of the prophecy of Jeremiah, denouncing the 
judgment of Heaven on the disobedient people, is poetry; he 
lacks the pomp and majesty of Isaiah, but excels in stirring 
±e gentler emotions. 

His Lamentations are beautiful elegies on the fall of his 
country and the desecration of the temple ; every letter seems 
“ written with a tear and every word the sound of a broken 

* For example, the Book of Jasher, which appears to have been a collection of 
songs in praise of the just and upright— the subject of endless discussions. 


98 


HEBREW LITERATURE. 


heart.” The verses of the several chapters in the original be- 
gin with consecutive letters of the alphabet, that they may be 
the more easily memorized, for it was intended that the sins 
and sufferings of the Jewish nation should never be forgotten. 
Can anything be more touching than the personification of 
Jerusalem, sitting as a solitary widow on the ground and 
mourning for her children ? 

“ Is this nothing to all you who pass along the way ? behold and see 

If there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is inflicted on 
me ; 

Which Jehovah inflicted on me in the day of the violence of his 
wrath . 

For these things I weep, my eyes stream with w'ater, 

Because the comforter is far away that should tranquillize my soul. 

My children are desolate, because the enemy was strong.” 

Ezekiel and Daniel were carried captives to Babylon, where 
they made known their prophetic visions. The former wrote 
partly in poetry, characterized by a rough vehemence peculiar 
to himself. The Book of Daniel, in which history is combined 
with prophecy, is in prose, and a portion of it in the Aramaic 
language. {Consult Keith's “ Evidence of Prophecy.") 

Another writer of distinguished merit, belonging to this age, 
was the scribe and priest Ezra (already mentioned), who was 



Thk Tomh of Ezra. 


THE APOCRYPHA. 


99 


permitted to return from Babylon to Jerusalem with a com- 
pany of his people, 458 B.C. He settled the canon of Script- 
ure, restoring and editing the whole of the Old Testament. 

The Apocrypha {secret writings) consist chiefly of the stories 
of To'bit and Judith, the first and second books of Esdras and 
of the Maccabees, Ba'ruch, the Wisdom of Solomon, and Ec- 
clesiasticus or the Wisdom of the Son of Sirach. Composed 
during the three centuries immediately preceding the Christian 
Era, they bear internal evidence, in their lack of the ancient 
poetical power, of belonging to an age of literary decline. 
They were mostly included in the canon of Scripture by the 
Council of Trent in' 1545, but are rejected by Protestants as 
uninspired. 

Ecclesiasticus, best of the Apocryphal books, is full of 
moral, political, and religious precepts, its object being to 
teach true wisdom and its style resembling the didactic poetry 
of Solomon. The following fine passage, versified by Lowth, 
personifies 

WISDOM. 

“ Wisdom shall raise her loud exulting voice, 

And midst her people glory and rejoice ; 

Oft the Almighty’s awful presence near, 

Her dulcet sounds angelic choirs shall hear. 

Me before time itself He gave to-day. 

Nor shall my spirit faint or feel decay ; 

I bowed before Him in His hallowed shrine, 

And Sion’s pride and Sion’s strength was mine. 

Did I not tall as those fair cedars grow, 

Which grace our Lebanon’s exalted brow ? 

Did I not lofty as the cypress rise, 

Which seems from Hermon’s heights to meet the skies? 

Fresh as Engaddi’s palm that scents the air, 

Like rose of Jericho, so sweet, so fair ; 

Green as the verdant olive of the groves, 

Straight as the plane-tree which the streamlet loves, 

Richer than vineyards rise my sacred bowers, 

Sweeter than roses bloom my vernal flowers ; 

Fair love is mine, and hope, and gentle fear ; 

Me science hallows, as a parent dear. 


100 


HEBREW LITERATURE. 


Come, w'Lo aspire beneath my shade to live • 

Come, all my fragrance, all my frnits receive I 
Sweeter than honey are the strains I sing, 

Sweeter than honey-comb the dower I bring ; 

Me, taste who will, shall feel increased desire. 

Who drinks shall still my flowing cnps require; 

He whose Arm heart my precepts still obeys. 

With safety walks through life’s perplexing maze ; 

Who cautious follows where my footsteps lead. 

No cares shall feel, no mighty terrors dread. 

Small was my stream when first I rolled along, 

In clear meanders Eden’s vales among; 

With fresh’ning draughts each tender plant I fed. 

And bade each flow’ret raise its blushing head ; 

But soon my torrent o’er its margin rose. 

Where late a brook, behold an ocean flows ! 

For Wisdom’s blessings shall o’er earth extend, 

/ Blessings that know no bound, that know no end.” 

The Talmud. — Our treatise would be incomplete without 
some notice of the mysterious book whose name heads this 
paragraph, — the Talmud. Comparatively unknown except in 
name for centuries, it was repeatedly suppressed in the Dark 
Ages by popes and kings, as likely to be dangerous to Chris- 
tianity. (See Dr. yastrow's '' Diet ioJiary of the 7'a/mud.”) 

Talmud means learning. It is essentially a digest of law, 
civil and criminal, and a collection of traditions orally pre- 
served. It consists of two parts, viz., the Mishna, or eailier 
text ; and the Gemara (ghe-mah'rd), a commentary on the 
Mishna. The age that gave birth to the Talmud was the 
period after the Captivity, when a passionate love for their 
sacred and national writings animated the jews restored to 
their country and its institutions. Hundreds of learned men, 
all great in their day, who treasured in their memories the 
traditions of a thousand years, contributed to its pages. 

The Talmud was a cyclopaedia treating of every subject, 
even down to gardening and the manual arts ; it depicts inci- 
dentally the social life of the people, not of the Jews alone, 
but of other nations also. It Is enlivened by parables, jests. 


THE TALMUD. 


101 


and fairy-tales, ethical sayings, and proverbs ; the style is now 
poetical, anon sublime ; and there may be gathered amid its 
wilderness of themes “ some of the richest and most precious 
fruits of human thought and fancy.” 

After two unsuccessful attempts, the Talmud was finally 
systernized in a code by the Saint Jehuda (about 200 A.D.). 
A remarkable correspondence exists between it and the Gos- 
pel writings, explained by the fact that both reflect in a meas- 
ure the same times. {Read Sekies's "'Poetry of the 2dlmud”) 
EXTRACTS FROM THE TALMUD. 

“ Turn the Bible and turn it again, for everything is in it. 

Bless God for the evil as well as the good. When you hear of a 
death, say " Blessed is the righteous Judge.’ 

Even when the gates of heaven are shnt to prayer, they are open 
to tears. 

When the righteous die, it is the earth that loses. The lost jewel 
will always be a jewel, but the possessor who has lost it — well may 
he weep. 

Life is a passing shadow, says the Scripture. Is it the shadow 01 
a tower, of a tree ? A shadow that prevails for a while ? No, it is 
the shadow of a bird in his flight ; away flies the bird, and there is 
neither bird nor shadow. 

Teach thy tongue to say, ‘ I do not know.’ 

If a word spoken in its time is worth one piece of money, silence 
in its time is worth two. 

The ass complains of the cold even in July. 

Four shall not enter Paradise: the scoifer, the liar, the hypocrite, 
and the slanderer. To slander is to mnrder. 

The camel wanted to have horns, and they took away his ears. 

Tliy friend has a friend, and thy friend’s friend has a friend : be 
discreet. 

The soldiers fight, and the kings are heroes. 

Love your wife like yourself, honor her more than yourself. 
Whoso lives unmarried, lives without joy, without comfort, without 
blessing. He who forsakes the love ot his youth, God’s altar weeps 
for him. It is woman alone through whom God’s blessings are 
vouchsafed to a house. She teaches the children, speeds the hus- 
band to the place of worship, welcomes him when he returns, keeps 
the house godly and pure, and God’s blessings rest upon all these 
things. He who marries for money, his children shall be a curse to 

Men should be careful lest they cause women to weep, for God 
counts their tears.' i-, 


102 


IlEBKEW LITEEATURE. 


The world is saved by the breath of school -childreu. 

WTieii the thief has iio opportunity of stealing, he considers him- 
self an honest man. The thief invokes God while he breaks into the 
house. 

Get your living by skinning carcasses in the street, if you cannot 
otherwise; and do not say, ‘1 am a great man, this work would not 
befit my dignity.’ Not the ifiace honors the man, but the man the 
place. 

Youth is a garland of roses ; age is a crown of thorns. 

The day is short and the work is great. It is not incumbent 
upon thee to complete the work ; but thou must not therefore cease 
from it. If thou hast worked much, great shall be thy reward ; for 
the Master who employed thee is faithful in his payment. But know 
that the true reward is not of this world.” — Deutsch. 


RETURNING THE JEWELS. 

‘‘Rabbi Meir, the great teacher, was sitting on the Sabbath-day 
and instructing the people in the Synagogue. In the meantime, his 
two sons died ; they were both fine of growth and enlightened in the 
law. His wife carried them into the attic, laid them on the bed, and 
spread a white cloth over their dead bodies. 

In the evening, Rabbi Meir came home. ‘ Where are my sons,’ in- 
quired he, ‘ that I may give them my blessing V — ‘ They Avent to the 
Synagogue,’ was the reply. — ‘ I looked round,’ returned he, ‘ and did 
not perceive them,’ 

She reached him a cup; he praised the Lord at the close of the 
Sabbath, drank, and asked again, ‘Where are my sons, that tliey 
also may drink of the wine of blessing?’ — ‘They cannot be far off,’ 
said she, and set before him something to eat. Wlien he had giA^eu 
thanks after the repast, she said: ‘Rabbi, grant me a request.’ — • 
‘ Speak, my love !’ answered he. 

‘ A few days ago, a person gaA^e me some jcAvels to take care of, and 
now he asks for them again; shall I giA^e them back to him V — 
‘This my Avife should not need to ask,’ said Rabbi Meir. ‘ Wouldst 
thou hesitate to return eA^ery one his oavu V — ‘Oh ! no,’ replied she, 
‘ but I Avould not return them without thy knowledge.’ 

Soon after she led liim to the attic, approached, and took the cloth 
off the dead bodies. ‘Oh! my sons!’ exclaimed the father sorrow- 
fully, ‘ My sons !’ She turned aAvay and Avept. 

At length she took his hand, and said; ‘Rabbi, hast thou not 
taugiit me that Ave must not refuse to return that Avhich hath been 
•intrusted to our care ? Behold, the Lord gave and the Lord hath 
taken aAvay; praised be the name of the Lord.’ 

‘The name of the Lord be ])raised !’ r<‘j<)ined Rabbi IMeir. ‘It is 
Avcll said : He Avho hath a virtuous Avife hath a greater treasure than 


EXTRACTS FROM THE TALMUD. 


103 


costly pearls. She openetli her mouth with wisdom, and on her 
tongue is the law of kindness.’” 


THE PAINTED FLOWERS. 

“The power of Solomon had spread his wisdom to the remotest 
parts of the known world. Queen Sheba, attracted by the splendor 
of his reputation, visited this poetical king at his own court. Thei e, 
one day, to exercise the sagacity of the monarch, Sheba presentecl 
herself at the foot of the throne: in each hand she held a wreath; 
the one was composed of natural, and the other of artificial flowers. 
Art, in constructing the mimetic wreath, had exquisitely emulated 
the lively hues of nature ; so that, at the distance it was held by the 
queen for the inspection of the king, it was deemed impossible for 
him to decide, as her question required, which wreath was the i)ro- 
dnction of nature, and which the work of art. 

The sagacious Solomon seemed perplexed ; yet to be vanquished, 
though in a trifle, by a trifling woman, irritated his pride. The son 
of David, he who had written treatises on the vegetable productions 
‘ from the cedar to the hyssop,’ to acknowledge himself outwitted by 
a woman, Avith shreds of paper and glazed paintings ! The honor of 
the monarch’s reputation for divine sagacity seemed diminished, and 
the whole Jewish court looked solemn and melancholy. 

. At length an expedient presented itself to the king; and one, it 
must be confessed, Avorthy of the naturalist. Observing a cluster of 
bees hoA^ering about a windoAv, ho commanded that it should be 
opened. It was opened ; the bees rushed into the court, and alighted 
immediately on one of the Avreaths, while not a single one fixed on 
the other. The baffled Sheba bad one more reason to be astonished 
at the wisdom of Solomon.” — D’Iskaeli. 


NOTES ON AVRITING. EDUCATION, ETC., AMONG THE HEBREWS. 

The art of writing practised by the Hebrews at a very rehiote period. In 
primitive times, records of important events cut in stone; the letters sometimes 
filled with plaster or melted lead. Engraving also practised Avith the stylus on 
rough tablets of boxwood, earthenware, or bone. Leather early employed; the 
LaAV Avritten on skins (of “clean animals or birds”) in golden characters. The 
skins rolled round one or two Avooden cylinders, the scroll then tied Avith a thread 
and sealed. Parchment Avritten on Avith reed pens, Avhich, together Avith a knife 
for sharpening them and an ink of lamp-black dissolved in gall-juice, AA'cre car- 
ried in an inkhorn suspended from the girdle. Letter-Avriting in vogue from the 
time of David. 

:\rany ancient JeAvish cities far advanced in art and literature. Reading and 


104 


EDUCATION AMONG THE HEBREWS. 


writing from the first not confined to the learned, for the people were required to 
write precepts of the Law upon their door-posts, and on crossing the Jordan were 
commanded to place certain inscriptions on great stones very plainly, that they 
might be read by all. Scribes in readiness to serve those who could not write. 
Schools established in different localities in the prophet ical age, in which “ the 
sons of the prophets” lived a kind of monastic life, studying their laws and in- 
stitutions along with poetry and music. 

After the Captivity, education recognized as all-important, and at length made 
compulsory. The Jews in consequence soon noted for learning and scholarship. 
$2,500,000 paid by Ptolemy Philadelphus (260 B.C.) to seventy Jewish doctors 
for translating the Old Testament into Greek, at Alexandria ; hence the Septua- 
gint, as it is called, or version of the Seventy. By 80 B.C., Palestine filled with 
flourishing schools. Jerusalem was destroyed because the instruction o f the young 
was neglected — Revere a teacher even more than your father — A scholar is greater 
than a prophet — common sayings among the JeAvs. Colleges maintained where 
lectures were delivered, and the Socratic method of debate was pursued. Every 
student trained to some trade, the ripest scholars working with their own hands 
as tent-makers, weavers, carpenters, bakers, cooks, etc. A large library at Jeru- 
salem composed of volumes in history, royal letters, and various works of the 
prophets. The most learned of the later Platonists the Jew Phi'lo (20 B.C.-50 
A. I).), who tried to reconcile the Platonic philosophy with the teachings of the 
Hebrew Scriptures. 

Kiddles, enigmas, and play upon words, the chief sources of amusement among 
the Hebrews. Dice mentioned in the Talmud. Public games unknown. Fish- 
ing with nets and hooks, favorite sports. Dancing practised as a religious rile ; 
the stage on which it was performed in the temples styled the choir: each Psalm 
perhaps accompanied by a suitable dance. 


CHAPTER V. 

CHALDEAN, ASSYRIAN, ARABIC, AND PHCENICIAN 

LITERA TURES. 

Cuneiform Letters. — North of the Persian Gulf, and drained 
by the rivers Euphrates and Tigris, lay Chalde'a, or Babylo- 
nia, the “ Land of Shi'nar ” (country of the two 7'ivers). Here 
arose the earliest cities, amid a population principally Tura- 
nian and Semitic, with a limited intermixture of the Aryan 
element. A Semitic dialect prevailed among the people at 


CUNEIFORM LETTERS. 


105 


large ; but the Turanian (Non-Semitic or Ural-Altaic) Chal- 
dees, to whom Babylonia was indebted for its aboriginal civil- 
ization, through the centuries of their ascendency, political 
and intellectual, not only kept alive their native tongue in 
conversation with each other, but, inscribing it on imperisha- 
ble monuments, caused it to endure through all time. 



To these Turanians the honor of having invented cuneiform 
letters must be conceded ; an honor, indeed, when we re- 
member that theirs was possibly the most ancient device for 
embodying human thought. The characters, called wedge- 
formed or arrow-headed, they appear to have brought with 
them into the Euphrates valley from the more northerly coun- 
try which they previously occupied ; and their Semitic co- 
residents in Babylonia were not slow in adopting the ingenious 
system which they had elaborated. {Consult Budge's ^’‘Baby- 
lonian Life^" By-Paths of Bible Kfiowledge Series, p. loo.) 

The cuneiform characters, like the hieroglyphics, w'ere at 
first rude representations of objects, but in most cases the re- 
semblance to the original was soon lost. In some archaic 
forms, however, it may be readily detected ; as in the charac- 



106 


ASSYRIO-BABYLONIAN LITERATURE. 



The common signs eventually 


acquired phonetic values. The Assyrian writing is made up 
of ideograms, phonograms, and determinatives. 

When by the victory of Alexander at Arbe'la (331 B.C.) 
the great Persian Empire fell, cuneiform writing ceased to be 
practised, and cuneiform literature was buried in the mounds 
of Assyria and Babylonia for two thousand years. During 
the present century it has been disinterred by inquisitive 
scholars, whose labors have resulted in the restoration of a 
forgotten history, through the wonderful literature of a people 
long known only in name. (See Sayce^s Hibbert Lectures.") 


ASSYRIO-BABYLONIAN LITERATURE. 

Writing Materials. — The cuneiform letters heretofore spoken 
of as in use among the Persians at a later date (p. 66) were 
doubtless originally intended to be cut on rocks with chisels, 
and hence were angular instead of round. But the ancient 
Babylonians preferred bricks and tablets of clay, on which, 
when moist and soft, they traced their legends, annals, and 
scientific items, with an ivory or bronze stylus, hardening the 
surface thus inscribed by drying in the sun. The tablets, from 
one inch in length upward, are pillow-shaped and covered 
with characters so minute as to be almost illegible without a 
glass. After drying, to insure their preservation, they were 
often enclosed in cases of clay, and on these the inscriptions 
were duplicated. Such are known as “ case-tablets.” 

The Assyrians used similar kiln-baked tablets, and, besides, 
carved their records exquisitely on the stone panels of their 
palaces, and on colossal human-headed bulls. The tablets 
above described, together with terra-cotta cylinders, formed the 
books of this inventive nation, who also engraved with won- 
derful delicacy glass, metals, the amethyst, jasper, and onyx. 


CUNEIFORM INSCRIPTIONS. 


107 


Stone slabs were generally reserved for royal# inscriptions ; 
the literary classes of Assyria preferred the cheaper clay, on 
which they could write more rapidly and quite as legibly with 
their triangular instruments. Something like paper or parch- 
ment seems to have been used to a very limited extent ; but 
if so, it has entirely disappeared. It is also thought that the 
Chaldeans may have practised a simple method of printing, 
as wedge-like types of stone have been found among the ruins 
of their cities. 

Golden Age of Babylonian Literature (2000-1550 B.C.). — 
Not a little of the Assyrio-Babylonian literature has been re' 
covered ; but a mine of literary wealth in the valley of the 
Euphrates still awaits the persevering student, for before 
2000 B.C. important works were written in Chaldea. In the 
twentieth century, a golden age dawned on this ancient land ; 
its great cities became centres of literary refinement, as well 
as of commerce and art, and a lofty poetical style character- 
ized the writings of the time. Standard texts on religion, 
science, and history were then and shortly thereafter pro- 
duced, the copying of which appears to have satisfied the am- 
bition of subsequent generations. 

In 1887, numerous Babylonian tablets, dating from the 15th 
century B.C., were found at Tell-Amarna, Egypt. They con- 
tain letters addressed by Asiatic kings to the third and fourth 
Amenophis (a portion of the correspondence relating to the 
marriage of an Egyptian monarch with the princess of Mitan- 
ni), and imply that the cuneiform writing of Babylonia was in 
that day the vehicle of correspondence, as was the Aramaic 
in the time of Persian supremacy. 

Among early specimens of Chaldean writing is a set of 
bricks, discovered near the site of E'rech. They are thought 
to have been made about 2008 B.C. As these bricks illus- 
trate the most ancient cuneiform character, two of them are 
here presented, accompanied with a translation. 


108 


ASSYRIO-BABYLONIAX LITERATURE. 


“ Beltis, his lady, has 
caused Urukh, the pious 
chief and king of Ur, 
king of the land of Ac- 
cad, to build a temple 
to her.” 


FROM A TABLET OF BABYLONIAN LAWS. 

“A certain man’s brother-in-law hired workmen, and on his foun- 
dation built an enclosure. From the house the judge expelled him. 

His father and his mother a man shall not deny. 

A decision. A son says to his mother : ‘Thou art not my mother.’ 
His hair is cut otf; in the city they exclude him from earth and wa- 
ter, and in the house imprison him. 

A decision. A mother says to her sou: ‘Thou art not my son.’ 
They imprison her. 

A decision. A woman says to her husband: ‘Thou art not m3' 
husband.’ Into the river they throw her. 

A decision. A husband says to his wife : ‘Thou art not my wife.’ 
Haifa maTieh (thirty ounces) of silver he weighs out in payment. 

A decision. A master kills his slaves, cuts them to pieces, injures 
their offspring, drives them from the land. His hand eveiy day a 
half measure of corn measures out.” 

Babylonian literature was rich in the departments of law, 
mathematics, astrology, grammar, and history. Nor was 
fiction wanting; fables, in which the lower animals carried 
on spirited dialogues, were favorites with the people. At a 
very early date, the inscribed tablets and cylinders were col- 
lected, and the chief cities were made the seats of libraries. 

From a volume of Chaldean hymns, somewhat similar to 
the Rig-Veda, are taken the following verses to the Babylo- 
nian Venus 



CUKIOSITIES OF BABYLONIAN LITEKATUKE. 


109 


PKAYEK OF THE HEART TO ISTAR. 

“jL-iglit of heaven, who like the fire dawuest on the world, art 
thou ! 

Goddess in the earth, who dawuest like the earth, art thou ! 

To the house of iiieu iu thy descending thou guest: prosperity ap- 
proaches thee. 

Day is thy servant, hea\ eu tliy canopy. 

Princess of the four cities, head of the sea, heaven is thy canopy. 

Exalted of the Sun-god, heaven is thy canopy ! 

For iny father the Moon-god, revolver of the seasons, sanctuaries I 
build, a temple I build. 

For iny brother the Sun-god, revolver of the seasons, sanctuaries I 
build, a temple I build. 

In tiie beginning the goddess spoke thus to men : 

The Lady of Heaven, the divinity of the zenith, am I ! 

The Lady of Heaven, the divinity of the dawn, am I! 

The Queen of Heaven, the opener of the locks of the high heaven, 
my begetter. 

O Istar! Lady of Heaven! may thy heart rest. 

O Lady, Queen of Heaven! may thy liver be magnified. 

O Lady, Queen of the land of the four rivers of Erech! may thy 
heart rest. 

O Lady, Queen of Babylon! may thy liver be magnified! 

O Lady, Queen of the Temple of tiie Resting-place of the World! 
may thy heart rest.” — A. H. Sayce. 


The Babylonians believed in omens. They gathered au- 
guries from dreams, inspection of the hand, the time of birth, 
and various phenomena, establishing a national system of div^- 
ination not without its amusing features. For instance, we 
have the following 

OMENS CONNECTED WITH DOGS. 

^‘If a blue dog enters into a palace, that palace is burned. 

If a yellow dog enters into the [lalace, exit from that palace will 
be baleful. 

If a spotted dog enters into the palace, that palace its peace to the 
enemj’^ gives. 

If a dog to the palace goes and on a bed lies down, that palace 
none with his hand takes. 

If a dog to the palace goes and on the royal jiarasol lies down, that 
palace its peace to the eneny gives. 

If a white dog into a temple enters, the foundation of that temple 
is hot stable. 


no 


ASSYKIO-BABYLONIAN LITEKATLKK. 


If a yellow dog into a temple enters, that temple sees plenty. 

If a spotted dog into a temple enters, that temple do its gods love.” 

Many charms and exorcisms appear in the ancient lan- 
guage of Babylonia, disease being attributed to possession by 
evil spirits. Specimens follow. 

BABYLONIAN EXORCISMS. . 

“Wasting, want of health, the evil spirit of the ulcer, spreading 
quinsy of the throat, the violent and noxious ulcer. Spirit of Heav- 
en ! remember ; Spirit of Earth ! remember. 

Sickness of the stomach, sickness of the heart, palpitation of the 
heart, sickness of the head, noxious colic, the agitation of terror, lin- 
gering sickness, nightmare. Spirit of Heaven ! remember ; Spirit 
of Earth! remember. 

Poisonous spittle of the mouth Avhich is noxious to the voice, 
phlegm which is destructive, tubercles of the lungs. Spirit of Heav- 
en ! remember; Spirit of Earth ! remember.” 

A belief in a future life is expressed in the Poem on the 
Descent of Istar, the moon-god’s daughter, to Hades, “ the 
land whence none return,” where “the dead outnumber the 
living;” and further in the so-called Nimrod-Epic, the most 
ancient approach to epic poetry known to exist, embodying 
the Babylonian story of Izdubar (identified with Nimrod) — 
his rejection of the suit of the goddess Istar, and his victory 
over the human-headed bull sent to revenge the slight. Nim- 
rod is ferried across the waters of the dead to the- shores of 
the regions of the blessed, where he recognizes his ancestor, 
Samas-napistim, and exclaims : 

“Thy appearance is not changed; like me art thou. 

And thou thyself art not changed; like me art thou.” 

Chambers of Records at Nineveh. — The Semites who, as the 
sacred historian informs us, left the land of Shinar to found 
Nineveh and the neighboring cities, carried with them the civ- 
ilization and literary culture of the Chaldeans. The earliest 
permanent seat of letters was Ca'lah (see Map, p. 105), where, 
during the reign of Shalmane ser II. (860-824 B.C.) many 
clay tablets borrowed from the Babylonians were copied by 


JJTERAtlY TREASURES OF NINEVEH. 


Ill 


Assyrian scribes. This same king erected at Calah an obe- 
lisk of black marble — one of the few Assyrian monuments of 
its kind commemorative of national triumphs. 

The library thus begun at Calah was enlarged under succeed- 
ing kings. Removed at length to Nineveh, it there attained 
vast proportions through the efforts of that munificent patron 
of letters, Sardanapa'lus ( Assur-bani-pal ), (668-626 B.C. ). 
The number of engraved tablets reached ten thousand. 

Here were grammars* and lexicons, law-books and scien- 
tific treatises, histories, astronomical and arithmetical works, 
songs, prayers, hymns sometimes approaching the Hebrew 
sacred lyrics in sublimity, books of charms and omens, natural 
histories, botanies, and geographies — a complete encyclopaedia 
of ancient literature. The books of this curious collection 
were carefully arranged according to their subjects, numbered, 
catalogued, and placed in charge of librarians. They were 
public property, intended for the instruction of the people. 

Such was the library of Sardanapalus — principally copied 
from Babylonian texts ; such, it was buried beneath the ruins 
of the palace when “ the gates of the rivers were opened and 
Nineveh became a desolation such, it lay amid the debris 
for centuries, “ while the cormorant and the bittern lodged in 
the upper lintels.” 

But the mounds that so long covered the site of Nineveh 
have recently surrendered their treasures. Clouds that envi- 
roned the history of the past have been dissipated ; ancient 
nations, for ages wrapped in obscurity, we no longer “see 
through a glass, darkly and the narrative of the inspired 
writers of the Bible has been in many places confirmed by the 
inscriptions disentombed in the East. Among the most inter- 
esting fragments found scattered through the ruined “Cham- 
bers of Records” of the Assyrian palace are the tablets relat- 


* The grammatical literature of the Assyrians is equalled only by that of the 
Hindoos and the Greeks. 


E 2 


112 


ASSY R1 0-B AB YLOXI AN LITE RAT UR E. 


ing to the Creation, the Fall of Man, and the Deluge, copied 
from Babylonian records hundreds of years older than the 
Pentateuch. 

FKOM THE CHALDEAN ACCOUNT OF THE DELUGE. 

(Compiled originally about 2000 B.C.) 

^‘The flood reached to heaven: the bright earth to a waste was 
turned. It destroyed all life from the face of the earth, the strong 
deluge over the people. Brother saw not brother, they did not know 
the people. In heaven, the gods feared the tempest and sought ref- 
uge : they ascended to the heaven of the King of angels and spirits. 

Six days and nights passed; the wind, deluge, and storm, over- 
whelmed. On the seventh day, in its course, was calmed tbe storm ; 
and all the deluge, which bad destroyed like an earthquake, quieted. 
The sea he caused to dry, and the wind and deluge ended. 

I perceived the sea making a tossing; and the whole of mankind 
turned to corruption; like reeds the cori)ses floated. I opened the 
window, and the light broke over my face ; it passed. I sat down 
and wept ; over my face flowed my tears. I perceived the shore at 
the boundary of the sea. To the country of Nizir went the ship. 
The monntain of Nizir stopped the ship ; and to pass over, it was not 
able. The first day, and the second day, the mountain of Nizir the 
same. The third day, and the fourth day, the mountain of Nizir the 
same. The fifth and sixth, the mountain of Nizir the same. On the 
seventh day, in the course of it, I sent forth a dove, and -it left. The 
dove went and turned, and a resting-place it did not find, and it re- 
turned. 

I sent forth a swallow, and it left. The swallow went and turned, 
and a resting-place it did not find, and it returned. 

I sent forth a raven, and it left. The raven Avent, and the decrease 
of the water it saw, and it did eat, it swam, and wandered aAvay, and 
did not return. 

. I sent the animals forth to the four winds. I poured out a liba- 
tion. I built an altar on the peak of the mountain.” — George Smith. 


SPECIMENS OF ASSYEIAN SACRED POETRY. 

A PRAYER FOR THE KING. 

“ Length of days, 

Long, lasting years, ' 

A strong sword, ' • ' 

A long life, 

Extended years of glory. 


SACRED POETRY OF ASSYRIA. 


113 


Preeminence among kings, ; 

Grant ye to the King my Lord, 

Wlio has given snch gifts ’ 

To his gods. 

The bounds vast and vride of his empire, 

And of his rule, i 

May lie enlarge and may he complete, 

May he attain to gray hairs and old age. 

And after the life of these days. 

In the feasts of the Silver Mountain, the heavenly courts. 

The abode of blessedness : 

And in the Light • 

Of the Happy Fields, 

May he dwell a life 
Eternal, holy, 

In the presence of the gods 

Who inhabit Assyria.”— H. F. Talbot. 

Here is undoubtedly expressed a belief in the soubs immor- 
tality, which also appears in the following prayer for the spirit 
of a dying man : — 

“ Like a bird may it fly to a loft}^ place! 

To the holy hands of its god may it ascend!” 


A PENITENTIAL PSALM. 

“O rny Lord! my sins are many, my trespasses are great; and the 
wrath of the gods has plagued me with disease, and with sickness 
and sorrow. 

I fainted : but no one stretched forth his hand! 

I groaned : but no one drew nigh ! 

I cried aloud : but no one heard ! 

O Lord ! do not abandon thy servant ! 

In the waters of the great storm, seize liis hand ! 

The sins which he has committed, turn thou to righteousness.” — 
H. F. Talbot. 


IIITTITE INSCRIPTIONS. 

Altaic Hieroglyphs. — Inscriptions on stones and various 
objects, in an unknown system of hieroglyphics, have been 
found near Damascus and elsewhere in the East. They have 


114 


ARABIC LITERATUKK. 


been ascribed to the Hittites (the Khita 
of the Egyptian monuments, the Khitiim 
of Scripture), a powerful race of northern 
Syria, who were constantly at war with 
the Babylonians, successfully opposed 
both Assyria and Egypt, and in the thir- 
teenth century B.C. extended their power 
as far west as the ^gean Sea. It is 
claimed that the symbols are “the pro- 
totypes whence the cuneiform system was 
developed,” and that the language is an 
Altaic (Turanian or Accadian) dialect. 
The date assigned is 1400 B.C. (See 
opposite engraving of an inscribed stone 
from Jerabis.) Scholars are now en- 
gaged in an attempt to decipher these 
reader is referred to Sayre's “ The Hit- 
tites : the Story of a Forgotten Empire.”) 

ARABIC LITERATURE. 

Himyaritic Inscriptions. — The high-spirited war -loving 
tribes that roved over the tablelands of Arabia, as well as the 
more refined inhabitants of her ports on the Red Sea, doubt- 
less cultivated letters. We may suppose the former to have 
given their florid fancies vent in pastorals, rude songs for the 
desert bivouac, or triumphal odes. More finished species of 
poetry would have been congenial to the courtly residents of 
the cities, whose knowledge of the world was extended by 
trading expeditions to India, and along the African coast as 
far as the Mozambique Channel. 

Yet of this probable literature we possess little that is older 
than the era of Mohammed (600 A.D.), at which time the Ara- 
bians awoke to a new life, for centuries leading the van of the 
nations in the march of literature and science. But the little 
that we have is not without interest. 



inscriptions. (The 


niMYARITIC INSCRIPTIONS. 


115 


At least eighteen hundred years before the Christian Era, 
descendants of Joktan, called Sabaeans and afterward Him- 
yarites, established themselves in southwestern Arabia; but 
not until about 800 B.C. do they appear to have gained per- 
manent dominion over the neighboring tribes. Inscriptions 
in their language, the Sabaean, a Semitic tongue closely re- 
lated to the Arabic, if not sufficiently like it to be called by 
the same name, have been found in the lower part of the Ara- 
bian peninsula on walls, tombs, dikes, and bronze tablets. 

These are the oldest known Arabic writings, and are be- 
lieved by scholars to date between the 8th century B.C. and 
the 4th century A.D. Gems have also been discovered, in- 
scribed with these same characters. 

PHOENICIAN LITERATURE. 

Its Lost Treasures. — In the most ancient records, the nar- 
row strip of coast between the Lib'anus Mountains and the 
Mediterranean was recognized as an important centre of civ- 
ilization. Its cities were seats of art and commerce ; Africa, 
Sicily, and Spain, were dotted with its colonies and trading- 
stations; the sails of its merchantmen sparkled on every sea; 
its language was known throughout the ancient world. 

It cannot be that a nation so advanced in knowledge was 
without a literature ; and if works on their philosophy and re- 
ligion, on history, geography, navigation, and agriculture, di- 
dactic poems and love-songs, constitute a literature, vast in- 
deed was that of the Phoenicians. No department of science 
or belles-lettres appears to have been overlooked by their 
authors. 

The famous “Book City,” Kir jath-Se'pher, which, during 
the conquest of Canaan, was taken by Othniel the future 
Judge, is thought to have been a Phoenician town. Its name 
implies that it was a repository of books, probably public rec- 
ords and works on law — perhaps an Athens to the nations of 


116 


PHCENICIAN LITEKATUKE. 


Canaan, whither their youth flocked to consult its libraries 
and receive instruction at its academies. Its valuable collec- 
tion of manuscripts was doubtless committed to the flames 
by the Hebrew conqueror. 

In like manner, the whole constellation of Phoenician 
hymns, and lyrics, and prose pieces, has become extinct, ex- 
cept a lonely star left here and there in the works of foreign 
authors ; or a faint light glimmering on some coin or tablet, 
gem or tombstone. 

The only important Phoenician writer known to us is San- 
choni'athon. Fragments of his History, written perhaps in 
the fourteenth century B.C., have survived through a Greek 
translation. In accounting for the origin of the universe, San- 
choniathon taught the theory of evolution, that “from certain 
animals not having sensation, intelligent animals were pro- 
duced.” 

PhoBnician Carthage also developed an extensive literature. 
The records of the city were kept by native historians ; and 
we know that Mago’s great work on agriculture, in twenty- 
eight parts, was highly appreciated at Rome, and there ren- 
dered into Latin. When the city of Hannibal fell before her 
more powerful rival, her vast library was scattered among the 
African allies of the Romans, and lost to history. 

An interesting relic of Carthaginian literature is the Cir- 
cumnavigation of Hanno, the history of a voyage undertaken 
in the sixth century B.C. to the coasts of Libya — the oldest 
history of a voyage existing. This work of Hanno, which used 
to hang in a temple at Carthage, describes a savage people 
called Gorillas, whose bodies were covered with hair and who 
defended themselves with stones. The narrator says; “Three 
women were taken, but they attacked their conductors with 
their teeth and hands, and could not be prevailed on to ac- 
company us. Having killed them, we flayed them, and 
brought their skins with us to Carthage.” 


L’HALDEAN LEARNING. 


117 


NOTES ON ASSYRIO-BABYLONIAN LITERATURE. 

Oldest Semitic cuneiform text written before 3000 B.C. The golden age, 
2000-1850 B.C. ; oral traditions collected and committed to writing; tile-libraries 
in all the principal Chaldean cities. Decline begins about 1550 B.C. The term 
Chaldean long synon3'mous with man of learning. 

Rise of Ass^’rian literature, 1500 B.C. ; confined to archives and records for 
a number of centuries. Renaissance under Sardanapalus I. and his son Shalma- 
ne^'ser II. (885-824 B.C.). Enlargement of the national library in the reign of 
Tig'lath-Pile'ser II. (745-727 B.C.) and of Sargon (722-705 B.C.), followed by 
a revival of the study of ancient literature. Copies made of the masterpieces of. 
antiquity. Reign of Sardanapalus II. (668-626 B.C.), the golden age of Assyrian 
letters. Fall of Nineveh, 625 B.C. 

Babylon succeeds as the seat of power and the centre of literature in western 
Asia; attains the height of its glory under Nebuchadnezzar (604-561 B.C.). 
Great revival of ancient learning: “the Ladv of Kingdoms” soon boasts of a li- 
brary emulating in extent and variety' that of her former rival Nineveh. Little 
of this later Babydonian literature recovered : its restoration left for future labor- 
ers in the field of philology\ 

During these centuries, a wild poetry probablv flourished on the highland 
wastes of Arabia, and Phoenician cities attained literary greatness. — Coins made 
of British tin, the money' of Phoenician commerce. 


CHAPTER VI. 

EGYPTIAN LITERATURE. 

The Egyptian Language. — There yet remains one field of 
Oriental literature for us to visit, and it is specially interesting 
on account of the valuable treasures it long concealed. These 
have recently been brought to light in the writings of that 
people who settled the fertile valley of the Nile in prehistoric 
times, and adorned the land of Egypt with monuments in- 
scribed with their mysterious characters. 

Thousands of inscriptions — some on the walls of vast tem- 
ples, or of memorial chapels attached to the tombs of private 
citizens; others hewn in the living rock, or carefully cut on 


118 


EGYPTIAN LITERATURE. 


obelisks of granite with chisels of bronze and steel — have en- 
dured to our day ; and thousands of papyri have come down 
to us, some of the rolls many feet in length, and covered with 
figures of men, birds, insects, and reptiles, in profile, often 
illuminated with high colors and gold wrought in artistic 
vignettes. The ingenuity of modern science has wrung from 
these their secrets, and disclosed a wealth of knowledge in 
connection with the history, literature, civilization, and relig- 
ion of the ancient Egyptians. 

The Egyptian language is undoubtedly Semitic, and, in its 
oldest form, perhaps represents the primitive Semitic stock. 
It contains, however, certain elements that are not Semitic, 
but that seem to have been derived from a tongue of dis- 
tinct origin, spoken in the country before its conquest by a 
Semitic race. The language has therefore been called Egypto- 
Semitic. 


EGYPTIAN WRITING. 

Decipherment of the Hieroglyphics. — The decipherment of 
the Egyptian hieroglyphics will always be regarded as one of 
the greatest triumphs of the present century. As early as 
1652, Kircher {keer'ker), a learned German Jesuit, attempted 
to translate the monumental writing; but, by reason of his 
absurd renderings, only cast discredit on the science of Egyp 
tology. Scholars of the period preferred the study of Coptic, 
the language of Egyptian Christianity ; it was through their 
labors in this field that the way was prepared for the final in- 
terpretation of the older speech. 

The Rosetta Stone. — The finding of the Rosetta Stone, in 
1799, led to the brilliant discoveries of the French savant, 
Champollion [sham-pot le-on). A French officer, while erecting 
works at Rosetta, in the delta of the Nile, during Napoleon’s 
Egyptian campaign, unearthed a piece of black basalt, which 
contained, in equivalent inscriptions in hieroglyphics, Greek, 


THE KOSETTA STONE. 


119 


and demotic (popular hand), a decree conferring divine honors 
on Ptolemy V., a monarch of the second century B.C. The 
meaning of the Greek text being known, the hieroglyphics 
through it were translated. Thomas Young, an English math- 
ematician, and the French scholar, independently, and almost 
simultaneously, succeeded in finding a true solution of the 
problem. Young determined correctly the value of some of 
the characters ; but the result of Champollion’s labors were 
vastly more important. He not only gave the correct ren- 
dering of long inscriptions and of numerous papyri, but pre- 



Tjie Rosetta Stone. 

The famous stone rests on a block of red porphyry in the Egyptian gallery of 
the British Museum. Dimensions : 3 ft., 1 in. high ; 2 ft., 5 in. broad ; 6 to 12 
in. thick. {Read the Report of the Committee appointed by the Philomathean 
Society of the University of Pennsylvania to translate the Inscription on the 
Rosetta StoneP) 


E G Y Pl’l AX L 1 T E R A T U K E . 


ll^O 

pared an Egyptian grammar and a hieroglyphic dictionary 
that for years were unrivalled as authorities. 

Champollion’s work was carried on by other scholars after 
his death. In 1867, Lepsius discovered in the ruins of Tanis 
a second trilingual inscription, the so-called decree of Cano'- 
pus, the study of which fully confirmed the theories previously 
advanced. The work of Lepsius gave a new impulse to 
Egyptian study. His immediate successor in this line of ex- 
ploration was Mariette, who built up the museum of Boulaq. 
Many others in France, England, Germany, and America, have 
devoted their lives to the study of Egypt and her systems of 
writing. The problem that baffled alike Greeks, Romans, and 
all subsequent nations, has been solved at last ; and the door 
has been opened to “ a library of stones and papyri in myriads 
of volumes,” in which every branch of literature is represented. 
The crumbling walls scattered throughout “ the Monumental 
Land” now utter intelligible words; the very implements and 
toys have their stories to tell ; and many a tomb has yielded 
up its brittle treasure of papyrus, its eulogy or legend, its his- 
tory or hymn. 

System of Writing. — From the earliest times the Egyptians 
possessed a phonetic system of writing. They had an alpha- 
bet of twenty-two characters, consisting of consonants only, 
which became the basis of the Phoenician, and through it of 
every ancient and modern European alphabet. Besides these 
consonants, there were in use numerous syllabic signs, in 
which two or three consonant sounds, or a consonant and a 
vowel sound, were represented by one character. Owing to 
the absence of vowel signs, it was often next to impossible to 
discriminate between words composed of the same conso- 
nants, but having different significations (as it would be in 
English, if, for instance, we should write s f r for sfar, store, 
stair, or straw, and leave the signification of the three conso- 
nants to be determined by the context). To obviate this dif- 


EGYPTIAX WRITING. 


121 


faculty, the Egyptians early invented a simple system of de- 
ter77iinatives. A determinative is a picture of the object de- 
scribed by the word in question, and was placed after the 
name. Thus the word rt)77iet^ signifying was followed by 

the picture of a kneeling man, ^ as was also every 

word signifying a male human being or his occupation. After 
the word hwief^ signifying W077ia7i, after the names of god- 
desses, the proper names of women, and all words denoting 
female human beings, was placed the picture of a woman sit- 
ting. ^ ^ After the names of gods occurred a typical rep- 
resentation of a god. In like manner, to the names of Egyp- 
tian cities was attached the representation of a plan of a city, 
while the picture of a range of hills distinguished foreign lo- 
calities (mountains being unknown in the Nile Valley). 

Some of these determinatives in time came to be used in- 
stead of the words they originally determined; and thus arose 
word-signs (ideograTUs), which, though at first comparatively 
few, soon increased in number. In this way, the picture of 
the city’s plan, originally a mere determinative, was eventually 
used as the written sign of the word city itself. The Egyp- 
tian system of writing is thus extremely complicated, consist- 
ing, as it does, of an alphabet, syllabic signs, and word-signs 
(ideograTTis) , supplemented by a system of determinatives. The 
whole number of signs exceeds 2000 . {See Moldelmke' s ^’‘Lan- 
guage of the A7icie7it EgyptmisS) 

Hieroglyphics. — The oldest form of Egyptian writing is 
called hieroglyphic;’^ its characters are well-drawn pictur&s 
of natural objects ; but these pictures had no ideographic 
values. They, were originally, as above stated, partly deter- 

* The Greeks, erroneously believing these characters to have been used by 
» the priests alone, called them hieroglyphics (sacred carvings). 


122 


EGYPTIAN LITERATURE. 


minative in their nature. The oldest hieroglyphical texts 
that have come down to us have been referred to the II. 
Dynasty (now estimated at about 4000 B.C.). The youngest 
texts date from the period of the Roman Empire. 

The inconvenience experienced in writing the hieroglyphics 
early led to the invention of abbreviated forms. These were 
of two kinds, viz., the linear hieroglyphics^ and a derivative 
therefrom, the cursive hieratic character^ suitable for rapid 
’ writing. On some of the stone blocks in the Pyramid of 
Cheops (he'ops), the monarch’s name is inscribed in hieratic 
characters ; while the oldest texts of the so-called Book of 
the Dead are m linear hieroglyphics, which remained the fa- 
yorite form for this religious work, as well as for most funeral 
papyri. There are two kinds of hieratic — one closely resem- 
bling the old linear hieroglyphics, and in common use during 
the Middle Empire (2100-1700 B.C.) ; the other, a simplified 
and abbreviated form, introduced early in the period styled 
the New Empire (about 1530 B.C.). Fr6m this second form 
of hieratic, the Phoenicians derived their alphabet (see p. 20, 
and plate p. 87). In the seventh century B.C., the hieratic 
gave place to the still simpler demotic^ which has not inaptly 
been called Egyptian short-hand. 

LITERARY" REMAINS. 

Egyptian literature, like other ancient literatures, passed 
through periods of development and decay. It had its dawn 
or archaic period, its classical and Augustan era, and its age 
of decline. 

The Archaic Age of Egyptian Literature was the epoch of 
the Old Empire (3800-2400 B.C.) From this remote period 
there have come down to us mainly inscriptions carved on 
the walls of private tombs and royal pyramids.' The earliest 
religious writings, comprising the oldest portions of the Book 
of the Dead, date also from this time ; and a few popular 


INSCRIPTIONS OF THE ARCHAIC AGE. 123 

songs remain, but they are difficult of interpretation. There 
is further a compilation of maxims, attributed to Prince Ptal> 
hotep, who lived about 2500 B.C. The style of the archaic 
period is simple, clear, and forcible ; the writings are, in the 
main, intelligible. As specimens, we present the entire text 
of one inscription, with extracts from another : 


INSCRIPTION ON THE SARCOPHAGUS OF KING MENKAURA 

(3700 B.C.) 

“ O Osiris, king of Upper and Lower Egypt, MenkaniA,* immortal 
one! Thy father is the heaven, thy mother is Nnt (goddess of tlio 
lieaveus), thon art of the family of Qeb (god of the earth). Thy 
mother Nnt bends over thee in the shape of her divine secret. She 
enables thee to be a god ; no longer hast thou enemies hereafter, 
thou immortal king of Upper and Lower Egypt 


FROM THE INSCRIPTION OF UNA, 

A GENERAL OF THE VI. DYNxVSTY (2400 B.C.). 

“This army went in safety; it devastated the land of the Bed- 
ouins. This army went in safety; it destroyed their fortifications. 
This army went in safety; it cut down their fig-trees and grape- 
vines. This army went in safety; it killed their troops there by 
many thousands. This army went in safety; it took very many 
prisoners alive. His majesty praised me for this above everthing. 
His majesty sent out this army five times to devastate the land of 
the Bedouins, every time they rebelled. 1 acted so that his majesty^ 
pr.ai8ed me above everything.” — Wendel. 

The first extract is of interest as being a translation of the 
oldest religious text yet found. (On the monuments, consult 
'"'‘Records of the Pastf 1874-1889 ; and MaspetR s " Les Contes 
Populaires de PEgypteP) 

Classical Age of Egyptian Literature. — After the Archaic 
period there is a great blank in Egyptian history ; but about 
2100 B.C. we begin again with trustworthy accounts. It 
would appear that Egypt had been subjected, at the close of 

* That is, dead king Menkaurd; the deceased was identitied with Osiris, god 
of the dead. 


124 


EGYPTIAN LITERATURE. 


Dynasty VI., by foreign invaders, who were expelled by the 
Theban princes of Dynasty XI. The final regeneration of 
the empire, however, was accomplished by Amenemhat I., the 
founder of Dynasty XI L, which, with the following, covers the 
period commonly called the Middle Empire (2100-1800 B.C.), 
at. the close of which Egypt fell a prey to the Hyksos, or 
Shepherd Kings. 

This epoch was regarded by later native writers as the 
classical age of their literature. It is represented by large 
numbers of inscriptions, and some remarkable papyri. Among 
the latter are the so-called Trisse papyrus,* a collection of 
ill understood moral maxims attributed to Prince Ptahhotep ; 
and the memoirs of Prince Saneha, a noble of the time, who 
was forced to fly from Egypt, and for many years lived among 
the Bedouins of Asia. Other works of the period are “The 
Instructions of Amenemhat I. to his son Usertesen I.,” the 
oldest version of the famous “Minstrel’s Song” (sometimes 
called the “Festal Dirge”), and several fairy stories, notably 
the “Tale of Snake Island.” The style of the literature is 
obscure. Much of it w^as unintelligible even to scholars of 
the succeeding periods. 

Under the Hyksos, phenomenal encouragement appears to 
have been given to the study of science. A mathematical 
hand-book of considerable merit reflects the tendencies of 
the time, as does more markedly the interesting “Papyrus 
Ebers,”t the oldest medical work in the world — both dating 
from the 17th century B.C. 

Selections from two prose works, and a poem entire, follow, 
in illustration of the style of the Classical Age : 

fro:m the memoirs of prince saneha. 

This noble, who held a high command in the army, having been 


* M. Prisse first published this papyrus in France: hence its name, 
f Papyrus published by Ebers. 


CLASSICAL AGE. 


125 


implicated in a conspiracj’- against King Amenenilult L, was com- 
pelled to lly the country, and lived for many years in Syria, among 
the Bedonins. The Memoirs contain interesting details of his Arab 
life. He tells ns that on reaching the eastern boniidary of Egyi)t, 
he encountered a line efforts stretching across the isthmus as a pro- 
tection against the Bedouins. “Then I hid in the boshes for fear 
the sentinels on the wall would see me. In the night I went on, 
and reached the land of Peten by daybreak. As I approached Lake 
Qemwer, thirst came upon me, and my throat was parched; so I said, 
‘ this is a foretaste of death.’ Suddenly my heart took new courage, 
and I arose — I had heard the lowing of a herd. I saw a Bedouin. 
He gave me water, and cooked milk for me.” 

Then Saneha proceeds to relate how 'he found his way into Syria, 
and was cared for by the king, who gave the fugitive the hand of 
his daughter in marriage; for the prince had heard who Saneha 
was, and “all his prowess,” from Egyptians dwelling at the court. 
“He let me choose a tract from the tinest lauds on the border of 
another country. This was the beautiful district of Aaa; there 
grow in it tigs and grapes; it has much wine, and is rich in honey ; 
abundant are its olives, and all kinds of fruits grow on its trees. 
Wheat and barley mature there, and herds unnumbered find i»astnr- 
age. And yet greater grace he showed me in making me sheik of a 
tribe. Every people against which I went, I conquered and drove 
away from its pastures and wells. I stampeded its herds, enslaved 
its children, plundered its stores, and killed the people Avith my 
swmid, my bow, and my wise plans.” — After living in Syria for some 
years, Saneha was pardoned by his king, and returned to Egypt. 


THE TALE OF SNAKE ISLAND. 

This charming tale relates how a treasury official is wrecked 
on an island in the Red Sea, while on his way to the mines 
of Sinai. The island is ruled by a great serpent, and inhab- 
ited only by snakes. The official remains for some time the 
guest of the prince, and is then dismissed loaded with presents. 

“I w'as travelling to the mines of the king, and had gone to sea 
on a ship 150 yards long and 40 yards broad (compare with tlie size 
of modern vessels), that Avas manned by 150 of the best Egyptiiin 
sailors, wdio knew heaven and earth, and Avhose hearts were Aviser 
than those of the lions. When we Averc at sea, a storm arose ; and 
as w^e ap])roached land the Avind grew stronger, and the AvaA'cs Avere 
eight yards high (only in most violent storms arc weaves observed 
Avhose height from crest to trough is 40 feet). I alone caught hold 
of a piece of timber; all the others that were on the ship perished. 


12G 


EGYPTIAN LITERATURE. 


A wave cast me on an island. There I found figs and grapes, melons, 
fish, and birds. I ate, and of what I had taken too much I laid 
aside. Then I lighted a tire, and sacrificed to the gods.” 


THE MINSTREL’S SONG (2150 B.C.). 

“Song which is in the house of the late king Antef, and which is 
before the minstrel. It is a wise decree of that Good Lord, a perfect 
fate, that while one body passes away others remain, ever since the 
time of our ancestors! The gods that once lived (the dead kings) 
now repose in their tombs The mummies are buried. When 
houses are built, there is no room for them. What has become of 
them? I have heard the sayings of Imhotep and Hardedef (two 
sages), which are sung in numerous lays: ‘What are now their 
places? Their walls are fallen; they are no more, even as if they 
had never been.’ No one chants their good qualities or their deeds ; 
no one decides that our hearts shall go where they have gone. 

“Thou art in good health; thy heart revolts against the funeral 
rites. Follow thy heart while tliou livest. Put perfumes on thy 
hair, don tine linen I Anoint thyself with the finest of the salves of 
the gods ! Do more than thou hast hitherto done ! Let not thy heart 
grow sore! Follow thy desire and thy happiness while thou dwell- 
est on the earth, until that day comes for thee when men will pray, 
and the god whose heart no longer beats (Osiris) hears not those Avho 
pray! The lamentations will not rejoice the dead. Have a good 
Time ! Assuredly none take their possessions with them ! Assuredly 
no one that hath gone hath yet returned!” — Wendel. 

Golden Age of Egyptian Literature. — With the expulsion 
of the Hyksos by Theban kings (1530 B.C.),lhe New Empire 
began ; it continued until about 1080 B.C., and was contem- 
poraneous with the Golden Age of Egyptian letters. Under 
the New Empire, the Egyptian dominion was extended east- 
ward into Asia, and far to the south in Ethiopia. Foreign 
successes kindled the native imagination ; hence the general 
tone of gayety which pervades the literature of the period. 
Religious works naturally occupy the first place. They com- 
prise commentaries on the older theological writings embod- 
ied in the Book of the Dead,* long rituals and liturgies, and 
numerous sublime hymns to the gods. 


* What is known as the Book of the Dead, or Funeral Ritual, is not a homo- 
geneous whole which has descended to us as such from antiquity, but a collection 


GOLDEN AGE. 


127 



PaPVKUS, FUOM TIIK Coi-LECTION l)K TUIO NUW YOUU II ISTOKIOAE SoOIETY. 


The secular literature is peculiarly brilliant. Magnificent 
hymns to the kings, legendary accounts of historical events 
like “The Taking of Joppe” and “The Expulsion of the 
Hyksos,” charmingly told fairy tales, accounts of travel and 
adventure, and spirited lyrics — give us an exalted opinion of 
the literary ability of Egyptian writers. Even an epic is not 
wanting, if we may so call the poetic description of the battle 
of Rameses II. with the Hittites. The inscriptions are of 
great value, for it is from them we have derived our know'l- 
edge of the history of the period. Both kings and private 


of all the funeral texts found in various tombs. The dead man was believed to 
encounter various dangers in the lower world, and hence it was of great impor- 
tance that he should be thoroughly instructed in advance. He had to know the 
magical names of all parts of “ the land of the dead,” of thousands of malignant 
and benignant demons he would there meet. He must also be acquainted with 
the names of the forty-two associate judges of Osiris who considered his claim 
to admission into future joys, as well as with the proper confession to make to 
each. The texts are partly descriptions of funeral ceremonies and of various 
localities in the Lower Heaven, partly h3’^mns and magical formulae for exor- 
cising demons, and partly long speeches the dead man must pronounce, with 
directions for making and inscribing amulets. Of these texts, some were writ- 
ten on papyrus and placed in the tomb with the mummy, others were inscribed 
on amulets and sarcophagi. In no one tomb have all been found. 

F 


128 


egyptia:s literature. 


citizens have left coherent accounts. Nor was science neg- 
lected. Several medical papyri have been found, and in cer- 
tain tombs have been preserved veritable treatises on astron- 
omy and long astronomical tables. The style is attractive, 
clear, and vigorous, owing to the fact that the grammatical 
forms have increased in number, thus permitting a more 
easy and varied expression. (See Erman's ^^^gypten” vol. ii., 
p. 442). Literary specimens follow : 

HYxMN TO THE- SUN GOD RA. 

(from the book op the dead.) 

“Hail to thee who art Ra wheu thou risest, aud Atnm when thou 
settest! Thou risest, risest aud glowest, glovACst crowned as king 
of the gods! Thou art Lord of heaven aud earth, creator of stars 
aud men I Thou art the sole god who hath existed from the begin- 
ning, who hath made the lands aud created men, avIio hath made the 
heavens and created the Nile, who hath made the waters and en- 
dowed with life all that therein is! Thou who hath built the hills 
and created men and the beasts of the held !” — TVendel. 

The genius of the poets of the Golden Age may be esti- 
mated from the following verses discovered on a monumental 
tablet among the ruins of Thebes. They are represented as 
addressed by Amen-Ra (ah! men rah), the supreme god of that 
city, to Thothmes III., under whom (15th century B.C.) Egypt 
rose to the zenith of her military greatness, and, according 
to a popular saying of the day, “ placed her frontier where 
it pleased herself.” The hymn is peculiarly beautiful in the 
original, by reason of the harmonious cadence of its periods, 
and that parallelism or “ balance of clauses and ideas ” which 
is largely characteristic of Oriental poetry.* 

HYMN TO THOTHMES III. 

“I am come — to give thee power to destroy the princes of Djah_:t 

I cast them beneath thy feet that follow with their peoples. 

* Nothing is known of ancient Egyptian metres : but it is evident that the 
poetry was characterized by parallelism analogous- to that of Hebrew verse. 

f Unknown locality. 


GOLDEN AGE. 


129 


Like to the Lord of Light, I make them see thy glory. 

Thou glowest as my image! 

I am come — to give thee power to destroy the people of Asia; 

Captive now thou dost lead the Syrian Bedouin chieftains ; 

Adorned in thy majesty, I make them see thy glor^^, 

Glittering in thine arms and lighting high in thy war-car. 

I am come — to give thee power to trample on western nations; 

Cyprus and Phcenicia are lying at thy mercy. 

Like a bold young bull, I make them see thy glory. 

Strong with piercing horns, whom none approach. 

I am come — to give thee power to trample on those in their harbors; 

Tremble for fear of thee the distant islands of Metjen.* 

Like the dreaded crocodile, I make them see thy glory. 

Lord of fear in the waters, whom none approach.^’ 

It was by Thothmes III. that the obelisk conveyed from 
Alexandria to the United States and erected in Central Park, 
New York (1880), was inscribed with hieroglyphics and set 
up among “ the images of On.” Rameses II. subsequently 
added to the inscription of Thothmes. {Read Dr. Moldehnke' s 

The New York ObeliskR) 

AN EGYPTIAN EPIC. 

Among the relics of this age of literary culture are several 
copies of an epic celebrating the prowess of Rameses the 
Great in a war with the Hittites — the only representative of 
its class in all the literature that has been recovered. It has 
been compared to the Iliad, but lacks many of the qualities 
which have rendered that poem immortal. The grand cen- 
tral scene, vividly portrayed by the hand of a master artist, 
discloses the king, forsaken by his cowardly troops in the 
heat of battle, calling on Amen for aid, and with the god’s 
assistance discomfiting single-handed the hostile multitude. 

“How is this, father Amen? Doth the father forget his son? 
Naught have I done without thee. Did I not march at thy word? 
What would these Asiatics before Amen? Miserable he who know- 


♦ Unknown locality. 


130 


EGYPTIAN LITERATURE. 


eth not tbe god. Have 1 not reared to thee ununmbered monuments 
and filled them with booty ? Shame on him who would scorn thy 
will ! Hail to him who kuoweth thee, Amen ! I call on thee, my 
father. 

I am in the midst of many peoples ! I am alone, my infantry and 
charioteers have left me! When I called upon them, no one heard 
me. When I called upon them, I found that Amen was better for 
me than millions of foot-soldiers and thousands of charioteers, of 
brothers and sons united. Vain are the works of men ; Amen is 
mightier. He is coming to me I He giveth me his hand I I take 
courage again ! I shoot right-and left. I am as a pestilence over 
them !’' 


THE TALE OF THE TWO BROTHEKS. 

One of the most beautiful of the old fairy tales is that bearing the 
title above. It sets forth the rustic life of»two devoted brothers ; 
the false accusation of one by the wife of the other; the flight ofthe 
accused after a warning given him by his faithful cattle ; his pursuit 
by the elder brother, and his miraculous escape ; the reunion of the 
brothers; many strange adventures, terminating in the elevation of 
the younger brother to the throne of Egypt, and of the elder to the 
proud position of hereditary prince. 

It is a curious fact that, with few exceptions, we are left 
in ignorance of the names of the Egyptian authors. The pa- 
pyri generally conclude with a remark to the effect that they 
have been copied at the instance of the royal scribes. 

The Period of Decline began about 1080 B.C. Demotic 
literature contains but two noteworthy works — “The Ro- 
mance of Setna,” a weird tale of magic, and a half-legendary 
history known as the “ Demotic Chronicles.” Demotic fables, 
in which animals are represented as conversing, appear to 
have been imitations of Greek originals. The writings of this 
period are in the main religious. 

Such is the literature which the sands of Egypt have yield- 
ed to modern research — a literature which, itself of greater 
antiquity, furnished models even to the nations that we call 
ancient. While these later nations, judging from the remains 
that have thus far come to our knowledge, certainly improved 
on their masters in artistic finish and grandeur of conception, 


EGYPTIAN EDUCATION. 


131 


it must be remembered that we have not yet fully sounded the 
depths of Egyptian literature. We know not what master- 
pieces may still lie hid beneath the sand, or bear the mummy 
company in some undiscovered tomb. We are, indeed, jus- 
tified in expecting greater works from the land that was the 
fount of Greek inspiration — the dayspring of knowledge to 
the Chosen People ; whose religion bears in many points a 
strange analogy to ours ; whose lasting structures are emblem^ 
atic of the soul’s immortality ; and whose lotus-blossoms, re- 
opening every morning, symbolize the resurrection from the 
night of death. 


NOTES ON EGYPTIAN EDUCATION, ETC. 

Egyptian education in the hands of state officials, who gave instruction in 
the duties of their several offices. In ancient times, boys born on the same day 
with a prince educated with him. Those that were to become scribes, sent to 
school at a very early age; the same advantages enjoyed by poorer pupils as by 
their richer fellows. No castes. After the children had learned to write, they 
were given old texts to copy in the form of letters, moral treatises, tales, hymns, 
etc. Thus they mastered the grammar of their language, and at the same time 
l)ecame acquainted with its literature. Schools dismissed at noon; boys em- 
ployed during the afternoon in the practical work of the department. Corporal 
punishment in great repute. Students of theology afterward entered at temple 
schools. No mention made of the education of girls. 

Particular attention bestowed on astronomy and elementary mathematics. 
Arithmetic and geometry taught; possibly the rudiments of algebra. Consid- 
erable progress made in medical science ; Egyptian physicians versed in materia 
medica and physiology, and thoroughly familiar with anatomy. They were 
adepts in surgery, and practised specialties. Mummies found with gold fillings 
in their teeth, and bandaged as skilfully as by an expert of to-day. 

The ancient Egyptians excelled all other nations in their fondness for record- 
ing. The chisel or reed ever busy. Red and black ink employed in inscribing 
papyri, the former marking the openings of paragraphs. Inks and colors kept 
in pots fitted in depressions in the oblong palettes. 

Dancing, gymnastics, games of ball and draughts, fishing in preserves, or in 
the swamps of the Delta with hooks, nets, and spears, spearing the hippopota- 
mus from canoe.s, and hunting wild fowl in the marshes — favorite pastimes. 
Ladies present at the sports and sumptuous banquets. A keen eye for humor 
manifested in the fondness of the Egyptians for caricature, from which even 
their representations of funeral ceremonies were not exempt. 



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PART IL 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


CHAPTER I. 

BIRTH OF GRECIAN LITERATURE. 

Early Settlement of Greece. — While Chaldea and Assyria 
were rising to greatness, while Phoenicia was winning for her- 
self maritime supremacy, and wonders in art and science were 
spreading the renown of Egypt throughout the earth, a simple 
agricultural people was quietly moving westward toward Greece 
and Italy. In very early times, Aryan tribes known as Pelas- 
gic quitted their habitations in southwestern Bactria (Map, 
p. 15), and made their way through Persia and Mesopotamia 
into Asia Minor. Here, on rich table-lands irrigated by the 
head-waters of streams flowing into the Black Sea and the 
Mediterranean, presumably among the gold-bearing moun- 
tains and vine-grown valleys of Phrygia (see Map), they cul- 
tivated their grain, pastured their sheep, made permanent 
settlements, and rapidly grew into a great nation. These 
Pelasgic tribes were the ancestors of the Greeks and Romans. 

The same general causes that led to emigration from the 
mother-country crowded toward the coast communities of this 
Phrygian people, and ultimately obliged them to seek new 
homes in the west. Perhaps, paddling from island to island 
in rude galleys, some crossed the ^ge'an ; perhaps, passing 


134 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


the Hellespont, some picked their way through Thrace and 
Macedonia, entered the defiles of the northern mountains, and 
spread over Greece ; while others, more adventurous, pushed 
their course still farther, and peopled the Italian peninsula. 

The Pelasgic tribes were probably the first occupants of 
Greece and Italy. Earlier emigrants from Asia appear to have 
found all they desired in the accessible districts of central Eu- 
rope, and not to have climbed the steep ranges that hemmed 
in those regions on the south. The Greeks themselves claimed 
with pride to have sprung from the earth ; and a golden grass- 
hopper, worn in the hair as an ornament by the Athenians, 
pointed to this belief in their autochthony. 

The Hellenes. — Fresh bodies of Pelasgians continued to ar- 
rive from Asia Minor, until all Greece was populated with a 
thrifty race of husbandmen and shepherds. Upon this primi- 
tive Pelasgian stock was afterward engrafted a branch called 
Hellenic, identical with it in origin, but forced to a higher state 
of development in the garden of Asiatic culture, and ready to 
burst into blossom on the soil of Greece. The new-comers 
were the Helle'nes, a people of greater vigor, physical and in- 
tellectual. Mingling with their Pelasgian kinsmen in the Gre- 
cian peninsula, they formed a new nation, endowed with fresh 
life; and the Pelasgic dialect, modified and energized by their 
more cultivated tongue, was converted into Greek. 

The Greeks had a popular proverb, do nothing too much^ 
which they applied in writing as in acting. Pruning away too 
great exuberance and repressing the Oriental tendency to ex- 
aggerate, they reduced everything to tTie standard of a rigid 
but elegant correctness. More artistic than the Hindoos, less 
luxuriant in imagination but with a chaster and severer taste, 
they established a literature richly furnished in every depart- 
ment, whose influence can be traced in the works of gen- 
ius that stand out in every age and country. As Professor 
Jebb says, “the thoughts of the great Greek thinkers have 


EARLY SETTLERS OF GREECE. 


135 


been bearing fruit in the world ever since they were first ut- 
tered.” {See Dr. Ciirtius's '’'‘History of Greece.”) 

Thus in Greece, Aryan energy, freed from the trammels of 
Oriental despotism, seems first to have found its true develop- 
ment. The facilities which this country enjoyed for intercourse 
with Egypt and Phoenicia, enabled it to draw from the learn- 
ing of one, to copy the enterprise and adopt the inventions of 
the other. This accounts for its having been the seat of the 
earliest European civilization. 

At a later period, we find the Hellenes separated into three 
great families — the Bohans, occupying generally the north of 
Greece ; the lonians, distributed over the central portions ; and 
the Dorians, settled in the south (the Peloponnesus, island of 
Pelops). Connected with these three divisions were as many 
dialects — ^olic, Ionic, and Doric Greek — of which, Ionic was 
the softest and most polished. This Ionic, refined and per- 
fected, became what is known as Attic Greek; it was the lan- 
guage of Athens in the golden age of her art and poetry, and 
for centuries was understood by the educated classes through- 
out a great part of the civilized world. 

These Hellenic dialects were also spoken on the islands of 
the ^gean and the coast of Asia Minor; for the tide of emi- 
gration set back again toward the Asiatic shores, and Bohans, 
lonians, and Dorians, returned in great colonies to the neigh- 
borhood of their early home. 

Ancient Greek is the most musical language of the Indo- 
European group. Sanscrit indeed excels it in regularity, but 
offends the ear with its sameness, the constant recurrence of 
a sounds wearying the European reader. No such monoto- 
nous repetition mars the harmony of Greek, which, on the oth- 
er hand, presents a pleasing variety in its vowel sounds, its 
numerous diphthongs, and consonant combinations. Nor is 
this variety to be wondered at, for tribes differing in their hab- 
its and intellectual traits, mingling on the shores of the JEge- 


136 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


an, contributed different elements to the common language. 
Above all, the Greeks were gifted with a delicate ear, which 
led them, in the oral transmission of their earliest poetry, to 
soften all harshness in their tongue and make it melody itself. 

In common with Sanscrit, Greek was well adapted to the 
formation of compound words by the combining of primitives j 
but this facility for combination was turned to account only so 
far as was consistent with clearness and taste; the unwieldy 
polysyllabic compounds of Sanscrit were wanting. The Greek 
rivals its Indian sister in luxuriance of inflection also, having 
five cases, three numbers, and three voices for the verb. Ac- 
cents were used in later days to denote the peculiar key or 
tone of voice; for the Greeks appreciated the subtle difference 
between to?ie (accent) and qiia 7 itity in pronunciation, a distinc- 
tion unrecognized in modern languages. 

Greek is universally admired for its dignity, versatility, and 
precision ; its blending of strength and elegance, unity and 
variety. It is suited to all departments of composition ; to the 
effective expression of the various emotions; to stately prose 
or simple verse. Its perfection at so early a period, particu- 
larly in view of the social condition of the people who spoke 
it, is a phenomenon which we vainly seek to explain. 

The Greek Alphabet. — The Phoenician letters were adopted 
by the Greeks, legend ascribing their introduction to Cadmus, 
the storied founder of Thebes (1500 B.C.). Some changes 
were made in these; new characters were added by the loni- 
ans; and about 400 B.C. the resulting alphabet, consisting of 
twenty-four letters, was officially adopted at Athens. The re- 
semblance between the Greek and the Phoenician alphabet is 
obvious; see Table, p. 87. 

That there was Pelasgian picture-writing in Greece before 
the Phoenician alphabet reached that country, is by no means 
improbable. 

The Beginnings of Greek Poetry are found in the sacred ode. 


EARLIEST FORMS OF POETRY. 


137 


the metrical response of the oracle, the festal song, and the 
ballad immortalizing the deeds of heroes during the mythical 
ages. The art of poetry was coeval with the first settlement 
of the peninsula ; but its higher development followed the 
transfusion of Hellenic genius into the older Pelasgian race. 

The earliest forms of poetry were hymns to the deities. The 
religion of the Greeks was a worship of Nature. Imagination 
peopled every nook of their picturesque land with supernatu- 
ral beings ; and each was propitiated with song, from the wood- 
nymph supposed to reside in the spreading oak to the sun-god 
Apollo, who, with the Nine Muses, the goddesses of poetry, 
abode on snow-crowned Parnassus. 

To Mother Earth (Deme'ter) were poured forth strains of 
glowing gratitude for her bounty; the Mother of the Gods 
(Cyb'ele) was worshipped with wilder verse, accompanied with 
the sound of cymbals and riotous dances ; the god of wine 
(Diony'sus or Bacchus) was hymned with lively lays in praise 
of revelry; and so the burden of sacred song varied with the 
character of the divinity. When spring clothed the earth with 
beauty, the hymns were joyous; in autumn they breathed a 
spirit of sadness, and at the grape-harvest was sung a plaintive 
ditty, the Li'nus, as a coranach for the death of Nature. The 
perishing of vegetation before the blighting breath of approach- 
ing winter was symbolized by the fate of the beauteous youth 
Linus torn and devoured by furious dogs. Of similar alle- 
gorical significance were many of the hymns. 

The delights and sorrows of domestic life also found utter- 
ance in verse; when the bride was escorted to her new home 
the nuptial song was sung, and for the dead the funeral dirge 
was chanted. At first this was no doubt done with solemn 
pomp, as a religious ceremony ; but the tendency in Greece 
was to popularize song, and both dirge and bridal hymn in 
time lost their mere ritual complexion, and became changed 
in the mouths of the people into free outpourings of emotion. 

F 2 


138 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


The bard now aimed at entertaining his listeners; he filled 
an important place at banquets and festivals, where, in short 
poems, he chanted to the accompaniment of flute or lyre the 
adventures of heroes, or so transformed old traditions that he 
was looked upon as their maker {poietes^ poet). All Greece 
honored him, regardless of his nationality. Whether ^olian, 
Dorian, or Ionian, he contributed equally to Hellenic fame, and 
was entitled to the sympathy and support of all Hellenes. 
Indeed, he was invested with a sacred character, for he was 
regarded as divinely inspired. 

Thus was laid the foundation of Greek letters. From such 
rude beginnings, the Greek imagination, by strides unparalleled 
in history, mounted to the grandest heights ever attained in 
poetry.’ Moreover, to original Greek genius we owe the differ- 
ent varieties of literary composition, — epic, lyric, and dramatic 
poetry, history, criticism, and oratory. Without the Grecian 
models, nowhere has marked superiority been attained; the 
originals themselves have never been surpassed. 

Tradition has given us the names of many poets belonging 
to the fabulous age. (On the gods and men of the Heroic 
Period, read Gladstone'' s ^'•yuvenius Mundi.'^') 


LEGENDARY POETS OF GREECE. 


Orpheus, the Thracian minstrel, in- 
ventor of religious poetry. 

Tham'yris, deprived of his sight and 
poetical talent for challenging the 
Muses to a trial of skill on the lyre. 

Eumolpus, a Thracian priest ; reputed 
founder of the Eleusinian Mysteries. 

O'len, earliest prophet of Apollo. 

Chrysoth'emis, the Cretan. 

Mus.®us {inspired hy the Mmes), a son 
or disciple of Orpheus. 


Amphi'on, taught of the god Mercu- 
ry; raised stones into the walls of 
Thebes by the strains of his lyre. 

Philammon, son of Apollo, and invent- 
or of choral music. 

Pamphos, author of the first Linus. 

Olympus, introducer of the flute. 

Phemon'oe, first priestess at the Del- 
phic shrine, inventor of hexame- 
ters. 


THE HOMERIC POEMS. 


139 


CHAPTER II. 

AGE OF EPIC POETRY, 

HOMER AND HIS WORKS. 

Homer. — The oldest literary productions of Greece extant 
are the poems of Homer, the most ancient monuments of Ary- 
an poetry west of the Persian Gulf. About looo B.C., among 
the legion of ballad-writers, the reciters of battle-songs, myths, 
and traditions (known as Rhapsodists — ode-stitchers)^ there 
arose an Ionian poet who soon towered head and shoulders 
above them all — a giant among the giants of literature — Ho- 
mer, of unique genius and world-wide fame. 

As to HomePs life, we must ever remain in the dark. For 
the honor of giving him birth, seven cities of antiquity disput- 
ed,* Smyrna seeming to have the best claim. If we may be- 
lieve tradition, he gave early evidence of his divine powers. 
Chance took _him on a sea-voyage, during which he visited 
many countries, among them Ithaca, the home of Ulysses, one 
of his heroes. On the island of Chi os, his favorite resort, he 
is thought to have written his epics the Il'iad and Odyssey, 
the first in early manhood, the second in old age. 

Legend relates that Homer, twice warned by an oracle to 
beware of the young me7t's riddle, went ashore one day on I'os, 
an island of the Cyclades, and there, noticing some boys who 
had been fishing, asked them, “ What luck ?” “ What we 

caught we left, what we could not catch we carried with us,” 

* “ Septem urbes certant de stirpe insignis Homeri, — 

Smyrna, Rhodes, Colophon, Salamis, Chios, Argos, Athense.” 

For all places mentioned in the history of Grecian literature, see Map, p. 132. 


140 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


was the reply. Unable to guess the riddle, the old poet died 
of vexation. According to another account, disease carried 
him off. He was buried on the sea-shore at los, where in af- 
ter years this epitaph marked his tomb: — 

“ Here Homer the Divine, in earthy bed. 

Poet of heroes, rests his sacred head.” 

Homer’s Style. — Homer’s Iliad was the first Greek poem in 
which were combined ingenuity of plot, unity of subject, and 
a faithful delineation of character throughout. He deals with 
heroes, but they are men of like passions with ourselves. The 
Odyssey, if less sublime, in its pathos and fine touches of nat- 
ure shows the same rich gifts of genius as the older poem of 
loftier flight. Both works are written in hexameter verse, the 
true metre of the ancient epic. 

The distinguishing features of Homer’s style are clearness, 
a vigor which makes us feel we are in the presence of a mas- 
ter, and a childlike simplicity that well accords with his sub- 
lime themes. His fidelity to nature is matched only by Shake- 
speare’s; and imagery, profuse as it is rich, lifelike, and appro- 
priate, lights up every page. Simile is Homer’s own figure ; 
and transporting pictures flash ever and anon across the scene, 
called up by his magic wand. For example: — 

“ As when, high-fed with grain, a stall-bound steed 
Snaps his strong cord, and flies, from bondage freed. 

Strikes with resounding hoof the earth, and flies 
Where the wide champaign spread before him lies. 

Seeks the remembered haunts, on fire to lave 
His glowing limbs, and dash amid the wave. 

High rears his crest, and tossing with disdain 
Wide o’er his shoulders spreads his stream of mane, 

And fierce in beauty, graceful in his speed. 

Snuffs his known fellows in the distant mead : 

Thus Hector — ” 

As a young olive, in some sylvan scene. 

Crowned by fresh fountains with eternal green, 

Lifts its gay head in snowy flowerets fair. 

And plays and dances to the gentle air ; 


THE HOMERIC POEMS. 


141 


When lo ! by blasts uprooted, whirled around, 

Low lies the plant, extended on the gronnd : 

Thus in his beauty young Euphorbus lay.” 

Homer astonishes us with his universal knowledge. He 
names every part of a vessel technically with all the accuracy 
of a veteran seaman ; he is as conversant with the details of 
a sacrifice as the officiating priest ; he describes a conflict be- 
tween two warriors with the precision of a master of fence ; he 
sketches the forms and usages of palaces as if born and bred 
in kings’ courts, and is equally familiar with the manners of 
the meanest hind. Everywhere he is at home. 

Other poets* may be stars in the firmament, but Homer, as 
Longi'nus says, is the sun in the zenith. His poetry is all 
nature, life, action, fire. It breathes an atmosphere of pure 
morality, and furnishes ideal characters long held up as mod- 
els to the Grecian youth, who learned his verses by heart and 
in some cases could even repeat his entire poems. Human 
genius has left on earth at intervals of centuries a few imper- 
ishable monuments ; none nobler among these than the mar- 
vellous Greek epics. 

Plan of the Iliad. — The Iliad, a poem of twenty-four books, 
is a tale of the siege of Troy (Il'ium), a city on the coast of 
Asia Minor (probable date of the siege, 1194-1184 B.C.). 
The cause of the war was the perfidious conduct of Paris, son 
of Priam, the Trojan monarch. Hospitably entertained at the 
court of Menela'us, king of Sparta, he eloped with Helen, the 
wife of his host, the most beautiful of women, and carried her 
off to Asia with the treasures of her husband. To avenge this 
outrage, Menelaus, supported by Nestor the sage of Py'los, 
called upon the Greek princes, collected an armament of a 
thousand ships, the command of which was conferred upon 


* In this category we do not mean to include our own Shakespeare ; Homer’s 
pedestal is no loftier than his. 


142 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


his brother Agamemnon, and set sail for Troy. A war of ten 
years followed, which ended in the capture of the city by strat- 
agem, the slaughter of Priam and his family, and the enslave- 
ment of many of the Trojans. 

The special subject of the Iliad is the wrath of the Thessa- 
lian Achilles (a-kil'leez), the leading warrior of the Grecian 
host, and the time of the action is near the close of the war. 
Agamemnon, compelled to restore to her father, a priest of 
Apollo, the captive maid Chryse'is who had fallen to his share, 
seizes upon Brise'is, a virgin allotted to Achilles. A quarrel 
results, and Achilles withdraws from the camp. 

Emboldened by his absence, the Trojans redouble their ef- 
forts. Misfortunes to the Greek cause follow ; and though 
many heroes second only to Achilles — the stalwart Ajax, the 
cunning Ulysses, king of Ithaca, Menelaus, and Diomede — 
exert themselves to turn the tide of battle, the Greek host is 
made keenly to feel the loss of its puissant champion. Jupi- 
ter, king of heaven, sides with the Trojans; and Hector “of 
the dancing helm-crest” drives the besiegers to their ships. 

At length Achilles, still unwilling to join in the fray him- 
self, allows Patro'clus, his bosom-friend, to lead his Myrmidons 
to the rescue. Arrayed in the armor of the Thessalian chief, 
Patroclus puts to flight the deceived Trojans; but, pursuing 
them too far, receives a death-wound from the hand of Hec- 
tor. The news of his friend’s fall fills Achilles with thirst 
for revenge. A reconciliation is effected with Agamemnon ; 
Achilles returns to the field ; the enemy are thrown into con- 
fusion ; and Hector, pierced by his spear, is dragged in triumph 
at Achilles’ chariot-wheels. The wrath of the Greek hero is 
finally appeased by the sacrifice of twelve Trojan captives at 
the funeral of Patroclus. 

To redeem the body of his son, old Priam, alone and un- 
armed, enters the Grecian camp, is well received by Achilles, 
who melts into pity at the sight of the grief-stricken suppliant. 


homer’s ILIAD. 


143 


accomplishes his purpose, and returns to Troy with Hector’s 
corpse. This meeting between Achilles and Priam is counted 
among the finest scenes. — The Iliad closes with the obsequies 
of Hector. (See Gladstone^ s '‘'‘Homer and the Homeric AgeS^ 
Achilles, the central figure of the poem, over whose grave 
Alexander wept jealous tears, was the impersonation of youth 
ful beauty and physical prowess. Brave, generous, passionate, 
devoted in his friendship but awful in his implacable anger, in 
him we are brought face to face with the ideal of Greek chiv- 
alry. Hector, the magnanimous Trojan hero, was the type of 
moral courage and domestic virtue. He appears as the affec- 
tionate husband, the loving father, kind even to fallen Helen. 
Homer has painted with exquisite touch a parting scene be- 
tween Hector and his consort Androm'ache, possessed of ev- 
ery wifely virtue. This passage, herewith presented, is pro- 
nounced the most beautiful in the Iliad. ■ 

PARTING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE. 

“ Hector left in haste 
The mansion, and retraced his way between 
The rows of stately dwellings, traversing 
The mighty city. When at length he reached 
The Scaean gates, that issue on the field. 

His spouse, the nobly dowered Andromache, 

Came forth to meet him — daughter of the prince 
Eetion, who, among the woody slopes 
Of Places, in the Hypoplacian town 
Of Theb^,* ruled Cilicia and her sons. 

And gave his child to Hector great in arms. 

She came attended by a maid, who bore 
A tender child — a babe too young to speak — 

Upon her bosom ; Hector’s only sou, 

Beautiful as a star, whom Hector called 
Scamandrius, but all else Astyanax, — 

The city’s lord, — since Hector stood the sole • 

Defence of Troy. The father on his child 
Looked with a silent smile. Andromache 


* A city southeast of Troy, situated at the base of Mount Pla'cos, and hence 
called Hypoplacian {under Placos). 


144 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Pressed to his side meanwhile, and all in tears 
Clung to his hand, and, thus beginning, said : — 

‘Too brave ! thy valor yet will cause thy death. 
Thou hast no pity on thy tender child. 

Nor me, unhappy one, who soon must be 
Thy widow. All the Greeks will rush on thee 
To take thy life. A happier lot were mine. 

If I must lose thee, to go down to earth. 

For I shall have uo hope when thou art gone, — 
Nothing but sorrow. Father have I none. 

And no dear mother. Great Achilles slew 
My father, when he sacked the populous town 
Of the Cilicians, — Theb^ with high gates. 

Twas there he smote Eetion, yet forbore 
To make his arms a spoil ; he dared not that. 

But burned the dead with his bright armor on, 

And raised a mound above him. Mountain nymphs, 
Daughters of jegis-bearing* Jupiter, 

Came to the spot and planted it with elms. 

Seven brothers had I in my father’s house. 

And all went down to Hades in one day ; 

Achilles the swift-footed slew them all 
Among their slow-paced bullocks and white sheep. 
My mother, princess on the woody slopes 
Of Places, with his spoils he bore away. 

And only for large ransom gave her back. 

But her Diana, archer-queen, struck down 
Within her father’s palace. Hector, thou 
Art father and dear mother now to me. 

And brother and my youthful spouse besides. 

In pity keep withiu the fortress here. 

Nor make thy child an orphan nor thy wife 
A widow.’ 

Then answered Hector, great in war : ‘ All this 
I bear in mind, dear wife ; but I should stand 
Ashamed before the men and long-robed dames 
Of Troy, were I to keep aloof and shun 
The conflict, coward-like. Not thus my heart 
Prompts mo, for greatly have I learned to dare 
And strike among the foremost sons of Troy, 
Upholding my great father’s fame and mine; 

Yet well in my^ undoubting mind I know 


* The aegis was Jupiter’s shield, which inspired fear, and caused darkness, 
clouds, and storms. 


EXTRACT FROM THE ILIAD. 


145 


The day shall come in which our sacred Troy, 

And Priam, and the people over whom 
Spear-bearing Priam rules, shall perish all. 

Bnt not the sorrows of the Trojan race, 

Nor those of Hecuba* herself, nor those 
Of royal Priam, nor the woes that wait 
My brothers many and brave, — who all at last. 

Slain by the pitiless foe, shall lie in dust, — 

Grieve me so much as thine, when some mailed Greek 
Shall lead thee weeping hence, and take from thee 
Thy day of freedom. Thon in Argos then 
Shalt, at another’s bidding, ply the loom. 

And from the fountain of Messeis draw 
Water, or from the Hypereian spring. 

Constrained, nn willing try thy cruel lot. 

And then shall some one say who sees thee weep, 

“ This was the wife of Hector, most renowned 
Of the horse-taming Trojans, when they fought 
Around their city.” So shall some one say. 

And thou shalt grieve the more, lamenting him 
Who haply might have kept afar the day 
Of rhy captivity. Oh ! let the earth 
lit! heaped above my head in death, before 
I hear thy cries as thou art borne away !’ 

So speaking, mighty Hector stretched his arms 
To take the boy ; the boy shrank crying back 
To his fair nurse’s bosom, scared to see 
His father helmeted in glittering brass. 

And eying with atfright the horse-hair plume 
That grimly nodded from the lofty crest. 

At this both parents in their fondness laughed , 

And hastily the mighty Hector took 
The helmet from his brow, and laid it down 
Gleaming upon the ground; and, having kissed 
His darling son and tossed him up in play. 

Prayed thus to Jove, and all tlie gods of heaven 

‘ O Jupiter and all ye deities. 

Vouchsafe that this my sou may yet become 
Among the Trojans eminent like me. 

And nobly rule in Ilium. May they say, 

“ This man is greater than his father was !” 

When they behohl him from the battle-field 
Bring back the bloody spoil of the slain fo<*, — 

That so his mother may be glad at heart.’ 


■t 


* His mother, Priam’s wife, king of Troy. 


146 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


So speaking, to the arms of his dear spouse 
He gave the boy ; she ou her fragrant breast 
Received him, weeping as she smiled. The chief 
Beheld, and, moved with tender pity, smoothed 
Her forehead gently with his hand and said : — 

‘ Sorrow not thus, beloved one, for me. 

No living man can send me to the shades 
Before my time ; no man of woman born, 

■ Coward or brave, can shun his destiny. 

But go thou home, and tend thy labors there, — 

The web, the distatf, — and command thy maids 
To speed the work. The cares of war pertain 
To all men born in Troy, and most to me.’ 

Thus speaking, mighty Hector took again 
His helmet, shadowed with the horse-hair plume. 

While homeward his beloved consort went. 

Oft looking back and shedding many tears. 

Soon was she in the spacious palace-halls 
Of the mau-queller Hector. There she found 
A troop of maidens, — with them all she shared 
Her grief; and all in his own house bewailed 
The living Hector whom they thought no more 
To see returning from the battle-field. 

Safe from the rage and weapons of the Greeks.” 

Bryant. 

The ancients implicitly believed the story of the Iliad, but 
modern scepticism has doubted its truth and questioned the 
authenticity of the poem itself. The German critic Wolf and 
others have even gone so far as to deny that any such person 
as Homer ever existed, contending that the name means 
simply a Jitter together or compiler^ and that the great epic is a 
mosaic of romantic legends by different rhapsodists, for years 
kept from perishing merely by oral repetition. 

Such, however, is the continuity of the narrative, the identity 
of style, the consistency in carrying out the several characters, 
that this theory, ingeniously as it has been urged, lacks credi- 
bility. We see no reason to doubt that, despite a few minor 
discrepancies, one great intellect gave birth in the main to 
both these epics ; that whatever foundations for them may 
have been laid in previous ballads, the glorious superstruct- 


THE ODYSSEY. 


147 


ures were reared by one master-builder. It is easier to be- 
lieve that there was one transcendent genius, than that there 
were half a dozen of uniform poetic power, competent to have 
had a hand in works so glorious — works displaying perfect 
unity of design, and taste so faultless that from them, as 
standards, have been deduced the very principles of criticism 
and laws of epic poetry. 

Besides the internal evidence of its authenticity, the histor- 
ical facts woven into the Iliad have received unexpected con- 
firmation in the discoveries of Doctor Schliemann, a German 
explorer who claims to have unearthed the Ilium of Homer, 
and to have found among its ruins gold and amber ornaments 
once worn by King Priam. 

Plan of the Odyssey. — In the Odyssey, divided like the Iliad 
into twenty-four books, Homer has immortalized the story of 
the return- voyage of Ulysses {Odysseus in Greek) from Troy 
to Ithaca. After a series of remarkable adventures and hair- 
breadth escapes, the hero is cast on the lovely island of the 
sea-nymph Calypso, who, becoming enamored of him, detains 
him for seven years. During this time, a number of insolent 
suitors force themselves upon Ul3^sses’ faithful wife Penelope, 
take up their residence at her court, and there lead a riotous 
life, hoping that the queen will bestow her hand on one of 
them and thus make him lord of Ithaca. They even plan the 
murder of her son Telem'achus. 

Admonished by Jupiter, Calypso reluctantly allows Ulysses 
to depart, and he finally reaches Ithaca in safety. Disguised 
as a beggar, he enters his palace after an absence of twenty 
years, to endure the insults of the suitors, but to concert with 
his son for their overthrow. 

On the following day, a great festival is held, and Penelope 
agrees to give her hand to him who shall send an arrow from 
Ulysses’ bow through a row of twelve rings. The suitors try 
in turn without success ; but the beggar, obtaining possession 


148 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


of the bow, draws the shaft to its head and accomplishes the 
feat. Then turning on the trembling suitors, he showers his 
arrows among them, and none escape. The true-hearted 
Penelope is restored to him whom she had wept as lost, and 
husband and wife sit down together to talk over the sorrows 
of the past. 

She told him of the scorn and wrong 
She long had suffered in her house. 

From the detested suitor throng. 

Each wooing her to be his spouse ; 

How, for their feasts, her sheep and kine 
Were slaughtered, while they quaffed her wine 
In plentiful carouse. 

And he, the noble wanderer, spoke 
Of many a deed of peril sore, 

Of men who fell beneath his stroke. 

Of all the sorrowing tasks he bore. 

She listened with delighted ear ; 

Sleep never came her eyelids near, 

Till all the tale was o’er.” 

Ulysses next discovers himself to his father ; and they two, 
with their friends, succeed in putting down the adherents of 
the suitors and restoring peace to the kingdom. 

Among the most beautiful passages of the Odyssey is that 
in which the poet introduces us to the happy household of 
Alcinous, king of an island on which Ulysses was thrown. 
Charming is the simple sketch he gives of the unaffected 
princess of this isle, just before her marriage, driving her 
maidens to the river in her father’s chariot, to wash the robes 
of state, lunch, and disport upon the bank while the clothes 
are drying. The royal mother superintends the weaving, the 
royal daughter the washing. We quote Homer’s description 
of the 


PALACE AND GARDEN OF ALCINOUS. 

‘‘ Ulysses, then, toward the palace moved 
Of King Alcinous, but immersed in thought 
Stood first and paused, ere with his foot he pressed 


EXTRACT FROM THE ODYSSEY. 


149 


The brazen threshold ; for a light he saw, 

As of the sun or moon, illuming clear 
The palace of Phteacia’s mighty king. 

Walls plated bright with brass on either side 
Stretched from the portal to the interior house, 

With azure cornice crowned; the doors were gold, 

Which shut the palace fast ; silver the jiosts 
Reared on a brazen threshold, and above. 

The lintels, silver architraved with gold. 

Mastiffs, in gold and silver, lined the approach 
On either side, by art celestial framed 
Of Vulcan, guardians of Alcinoiis’ gate 
Forever, unobnoxious to decay. 

Sheer from the threshold to the inner house 
Fixed thrones the walls, through all their length, adornedj 
With mantles overspread of subtlest warp 
Transparent, work of many a female hand. 

On these the princes of Phaeacia sat. 

Holding perpetual feasts, while golden youths 
On all the sumptuous altars stood, their hands 
With burning torches charged, which, night by night, 

Shed radiance oyer all the festive throng. 

Full fifty female menials served the king 
In household offices ; the rapid mills 
These turning, pulverize the mellowed grain ; 

Those, seated orderly, the purple fleece 
Wind off, or ply the loom, restless as leaves 
Of lofty poplars fluttering in the breeze ; 

Bright as with oil the new-wrought texture shone. 

Without the court, and to the gates adjoined, 

A spacious garden lay, fenced all around ' - 

Secure, four acres measuring complete. 

There grew luxuriant many a lofty tree, 

Pomegranate, pear, the apple blushing bright, 

The honeyed fig, and unctuous olive smooth. 

Those fruits nor winter’s cold nor summer’s heat 
Fear ever, fail not, wither not*, but hang 
Perennial, whose unceasing zephyr breathes 
Gently on all, enlarging these, and those 
Maturing genial ; in an endless course 
Pears after pears to full dimensions swell. 

Figs follow figs, grapes clustering grow again 
Where clusters grew, and (every apple stripped) 

The boughs soon tempt the gatherer as before. 

There too, well-rooted, and of fruit profuse. 

His vineyard grows ; part, wide-extended, basks 
In the sun’s beams; the arid level glows; 


150 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


lu part they gather, and in part they tread 
The wine-press, while, before the eye, the grapes 
Here put their blossom forth, there gather fast 
Their blackness. On the garden’s verge extreme 
Flowers of all hues smile all the year, arranged 
With neatest art judicious, and amid 
The lovely scene two fountains welling forth. 

One visits, into every part diffused. 

The garden ground, the other soft beneath 
The threshold steals into the palace court. 

Whence every citizen his vase snpplies. 

Such were the ample blessings on the house 
Of King Alcinoiis by the gods bestowed.” — Cowper. 

Minor Poems of Homer. — The Iliad and the Odyssey are the 
only authentic productions of Homer. To their author, how- 
ever, have been attributed about thirty hymns and several 
minor poems, which have little claim to so distinguished an 
origin. Of these, “ the Margites,” a satire on a blockhead 
who knew much “ but everything knew ill,” was probably 
the work of some clever Athenian in ati age when epic poe- 
try was a thing of the past; the poem is no longer extant. 

“ The Battle of the Frogs and Mice,” a mock heroic of com- 
paratively modern birth, is still preserved and appreciated. 
It is a witty burlesque on the Iliad (perhaps the earliest bur- 
lesque extant), written in a bold and flowing style. The plot 
is brief. A mouse. Crumb-snatcher, son of the Mice-king, fly- 
ing from an enemy, reaches a pool over which a courteous 
frog. Puff-cheek, undertakes to carry him. But during the 
passage a water-snake appears ; the frightened frog dives to 
escape his foe, and thoughtlessly leaves his newly-made friend 
to drown. The mice gather to avenge the loss of their prince; 
a great battle ensues, and but for the interference of Jupiter 
the frogs would have been annihilated. 

The so-called Homeric Hymns, which the ancients believed 
to be the work of Homer, if somewhat inferior in age to the 
Iliad and Odyssey, are undoubtedly older than the pieces 
named above. Those addressed to Apollo, Mercury, Venus, 


THE HOMERIC HYMNS. 


151 


and Ceres, the finest in the collection, are regular poems of 
some length; the others are simple eulogies or brief preludes 
to longer pieces. The Hymn to Venus has a tenderness and 
warmth not unworthy of Homer. The one in honor of Ceres 
relates the abduction of her daughter Proserpine by Pluto, 
king of the lower world, the mother’s search for the stolen 
maiden, her anger on discovering the ravisher, and the final 
arrangement that the goddess shall enjoy the society of her 
daughter during two-thirds of the year. As a favorable speci- 
men of its style, we cite the lines that follow ; — 

THE ABDUCTION OF PROSERPINE. 

“ In Nysia’s vale, with nymphs a lovely train, 

Sprung from the hoary father of the main, 

Fair Proserpine consumed the fleeting hours 
In pleasing sports, and plucked the gaudy flowers. 

Around them wide the flamy crocus glows, 

Tlirough leaves of verdure blooms the opening rose ; 

The hyacinth declines his fragrant head. 

And purple violets deck th’ enamelled mead. 

The fair Narcissus far above the rest. 

By magic formed, in beauty rose confessed. 

So Jove, t’ ensnare the virgin’s thoughtless mind, 

Aud please the ruler of the shades, designed. 

He caused it from the opening earth to rise. 

Sweet to the scent, alluring to the eyes. 

Never did mortal or celestial power 
Behold such vivid tints adorn a flow'er. 

From the deep root a hundred branches sprung. 

And to the winds ambrosial odors flung ; 

Which, lightly wafted on the wings of air. 

The gladdened earth and heaven’s wide circuit share. 

The joy-dispensing fragrance spreads around. 

And ocean’s briny swell with smiles is crowned. 

Pleased at the sight, nor deeming danger nigh. 

The fair beheld it with desiring eye : 

Her eager hand she stretched to seize the flower, 
(Beauteous illusion of the ethereal power!) 

When, dreadful to behold, the rocking ground 
Disparted — widely yawned a gulf profound ! 

Forth rushing from the black abyss, arose 
The gloomy monarch of the realm of woes, 


152 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Pluto, from Saturn spruug. The trembling maid 
He seized, aud to his golden car conveyed. 

Borne by immortal steeds the chariot flies : 

And thus she pours her supplicating cries : — 

‘ Assist, protect me, thou who reign’st above. 

Supreme and best of gods, paternal Jove!’ 

But ah ! in vain the hapless virgin rears 

Her wild complaint : nor god nor mortal hears I 

Not to the white-armed nymphs with beauty crowned. 

Her loved companions, reached the mournful sound.” 

Hole. 

There are also various fragments styled Homeric, supposed 
to have been dropped from the poet’s genuine or spurious 
works. Among these is the beautiful couplet quoted by 
Plato : — 

“ Asked aud unasked, thy blessings give, O Lord ! 

The evil, though we ask it, from us ward.” 

Cyclic Poets. — After the death of Homer, a host of imitators 
sprung up in Greece and Asia Minor. Rhapsodists by pro- 
fession, as they wandered among the Grecian cities reciting 
the Homeric poems, their attention was naturally directed to 
epic composition, and they sought to supply in verse like Ho- 
mer’s what the Iliad and Odyssey had left untold. Confining 
themselves to the Cycle {circle) of the Trojan War, they were 
called Cyc'lic poets. 

One bard sung of the preparations made by the Grecian 
chiefs and the events of the war prior to Achilles’ withdrawal ; 
two others took up the narrative where the Iliad left it, and 
described the sack of Troy; a fourth celebrated the return 
voyages of the Greek heroes ; a fifth supplemented the Odys- 
sey with the later history of Ulysses. Fragments only of 
these Cyclic epics survive. 

HESIOD AND HIS WORKS. 

Hesiod. — Homer was an Ionian of Asia Minor. Shortly 
after his time, or, as some think, contemporaneously with him, 
a new school of epic poetry appeared in the mother-country. 


HESIOD AND HIS WORKS. 


158 


Its founder was Hesiod, who, like Homer, wrote in the Ionic 
dialect. 

Hesiod was born at Ascra in Bceotia, and brought up in the 
midst of rural life at the base of Mount Helicon. Here first 
he held free converse with the Muses. On his father’s death, 
he was defrauded of his portion of the estate by his younger 
brother Perses, who bribed the judges charged with making 
the division. Hesiod felt the wrong keenly, yet seems to have 
regarded his unnatural brother with fraternal interest ; for one 
object of his poem entitled “Works and Days,” w'as to reclaim 
Perses from dissolute improvidence and incite him to a life of 
industry. 

The first portion of this work is devoted to moral lessons; 
some in a proverbial form, and others illustrated by narratives 
and fables. The latter part contains practical directions for 
the husbandman, and also treats of the art of navigation, im- 
portant to the Boeotian farmer because much of his produce 
was shipped to other countries. The whole abounds in ex- 
cellent precepts for every-day life, and forms the earliest spec- 
imen of didactic poetry among the Greeks. For ages its lines 
were committed to memory and recited as part of the course 
of ethics in their schools. 

FROM HESIOD’S WORKS AND DAYS. 

RIGHT AND WRONG, 

“Wrong, if he yield to its abhorred control, 

Shall pierce like iron to the poor man’s soul : 

Wrong weighs the rich man’s conscience to the dust, 

When his foot stumbles on the way unjust. 

Far different is the path, a path of light, 

That guides the feet to equitable right : 

The end of righteousness, enduring long. 

Exceeds the short prosperity of wrong. 

The fool by suffering his experience buys ; 

The penalty of folly makes him wise. 

But they who never frotn the right have strayed. 

Who as the citizen the stranger aid, 

G 


164 ■ GRECIAN LITERATURE. 

They and their cities flourish : genial Peace 
Dwells in their borders ; and their youth increase ; 

Nor Jove, whose radiant eyes behold afar, 

Hangs forth in heaven the signs of grievous war. 

Nor scathe nor famine on the righteous prey ; 

Feasts, strewn by earth, emj)loy their easy day : 

Kich are their mountain oaks ; the topmost trees 
With clustering acorns full, the trunks with hiving bees. 
Still flourish they, nor tempt with ships the main ; 

The fruits of earth are poured from every plain. 

But o’er the wicked race, to whom belong * 

The thought of evil, and the deed of wrong, 

Saturnian Jove, of wide beholding eyes. 

Bids the dark signs of retribution rise. 

The god sends down his angry plagues from high, 

Famine and pestilence : in heaps they die. 

Again, in vengeance of his wrath he falls 
1 On their great hosts, and breaks their tottering walls ; 

I Arrests their navies on the ocean’s plain, 

I And whelms their strength with mountains of the main.” 

Elton. 


SOME OF Hesiod’s proverbs. 

^ Than wife that’s good man finds no greater gain. 

But feast-frequenting mates are simply bane. 

Invisible, the gods are ever nigh. 

Senseless is he who dares with power contend. 

Know then this awful truth : it is not given 
To elude the wisdom of omniscient Heaven. 

Toil, and the slothful man shall envy thee. 

The more children, the more cares. 

Sometimes a day is a step-mother, sometimes a mother. 

. Whoever forgeth for another ill, 

With it himself is overtaken still. 

The procrastinator has ever to contend with loss. 

The idler never shall his garners fill. 

The lips of moderate speech with grace are hung. 

When on your home falls unforeseen distress. 

Half-clothed come neighbors ; kinsmen stay to dress. 

Justice is a virgin pure. 

The road to vice is broad and easy ; that of virtue, difiScult, long, 
and steep 


IIESIOd’s POETRr. 


155 


Fools ! uot to know liow better for tbe soul, 

An bonest half than an ill-gotten whole. 

Oh ! gorged with gold, ye kingly judges hear! 

Make straight your paths; your crooked judgments fear. 

How richer he who dines on herbs with health 

Of heart, than knaves with all their wines and wealth. 

He who nor knows himself, nor will take rule 

From those who do, is either knave or fool.’’ 

Next in importance to the “Works and Days” is “the The- 
ogony,” devoted to the genealogy and history of the Grecian 
gods, thirty thousand in number. Whatever interest this poem 
may have possessed for the believer in the Greek mythology, 
to the reader of the present day it is for the most part tedious, 
though relieved by occasional grand descriptions of battles 
between the celestial personages. “The Shield of Hercules” 
also bears the name of Hesiod; and of works ascribed to him, 
but not now extant, there are about a dozen. 

Hesiod mentions a poetical contest between himself and 
another, which took place at the funeral of Amphid'amas, king 
of Euboea, and in which he obtained a tripod as a prize. Tra- 
dition mentions Homer as his competitor on that occasion, 
and even gives the inscription placed on the tripod by the 
victor ; — 

“ This Hesiod vows to th’ Heliconian Nine, 

In Chalcis won, from Homer the divine.” 

But this part of the story rests on insufficient evidence. 

Hesiod is said to have been slain, during a visit to the Lo- 
crian town of CEnoe, by two brothers, in revenge for an insult 
offered to their sister by Hesiod’s companion, which caused 
her to destroy herself. The poet’s body, thrown into the sea, 
was brought to shore by his dog, or as some say by dolphins. 
Thereupon the indignant people put the murderers to death 
and razed their dwellings to the ground — an incident which 
shows the sacredness attached to the vocation of the bard in 
those early times. 


156 


AGE OF EPIC POETRY. 


Though Hesiod ranks far below Homer, and indeed is often 
commonplace, yet at times his style exhibits enthusiasm and 
even rises to sublimity. We must respect him for the pure 
morality of his teachings. 


POETS OF THE EPIC CYCLE. 


Arcti'nus of Mile'tus. 

His poem of 9,100 verses had INIem- 
non, an Ethiopian chief, for its hero. 
It treated of the part taken in the 
Trojan War by the Amazons, who ar- 
rived after Hector’s funeral ; the death 
of their queen, Penthesile'a, at the 
hand of Achilles ; the fall of Achilles 
himself ; and the sack of Troy. 

Les'ches of Mytile'ne. 

Author of the Little Iliad, a supple- 
ment to the greater work of that 
name ; it took up the narrative 
where Homer leaves off, and carried 
it to the fall of Troy. 


Stasi'nus of Cyprus. 

Wrote the Cypria, in eleven books, 
narrating the events that preceded 
the Trojan War, and the incidents of 
the first nine years of the siege. 

A'gias the Tr(ezenian. 

His epic in five books, called Nostoi 
(the Returns), was descriptive of the 
home-voyages of the Greek heroes. 

Eu'gamon of Cyre'ne. 

The Telegonia, a continuation of the 
Odyssey to the death of Ulysses, who 
falls by the hand of Teleg'onus, his 
son by Cir'ce. 


NOTES ON GREEK WRITING, ETC 

The language of epic poetry perhaps once the common tongue of the people, 
and merely elaborated by the bards. ’The art of writing, old in Greece ; while 
there is no positive evidence of its being known before 800 B.C., the historian 
Herodotus (450 B.C.) speaks as if it had been familiar to his countrj’^men for 
hundreds of years, Homer’s epics, though by some thought to have been handed 
down by oral repetition, probably written on metallic or wooden tablets by their 
author. Hesiod’s works originally committed to leaden tables and deposited in 
the temple of the Boeotian Muses. 

Greek papyrus-factories on the Nile, 650 B.C. Writing first extensively used 
by priests and bards, particularly at the temple of Delphi. 


(The student is further recommended to read Coxh “ Mythology of the Aryan 
Nations" vol ii., Harrison's Myths of the Odyssey" Coleridge's Minor Poems 
of Homer," Tyler's “ Theology of the Greek Poetry," and Mahaffy's History of 
Classical Greek Literature," vol. i., and “ Social Life in Greece.") 


EARLY LYRIC POETRY OF GREECE. 


157 


CHAPTER III. 

LYRIC POETRY, 

Rise of Lyric Poetry. — For more than two hundred years 
after Homer and Hesiod, no one worthy of the name of poet 
appeared in Greece. Greek genius seemed to have exhausted 
itself. A few feeble imitators of the great master, and epic 
poetry was no more. The spirit of the Iliad and the Odyssey 
died with the monarchies whose chieftains they immortalized. 
When popular governments arose, the bard no longer cele- 
brated the gods and demigods of the past, or traced the gene- 
alogies of kings, but sung the glories of his country, or poured 
forth without restraint the emotions of his soul. Thus lyric 
poetiy was the child of liberty. 

Varieties. — At the beginning of the seventh century B.C., 
there was a new birth of poesy; Grecian song burst forth 
once more, from hearts throbbing with enthusiasm at the tri- 
umph of free institutions. Solemn dirges and stately hymns 
chanted by olive-crowned youth bearing offerings to the gods, 
were no longer paramount ; ballads full of human feeling, 
lyrics appealing directly to the people — to the patriot, the 
artisan, the shepherd, the lover, the pleasure-seeker — struck 
chords that vibrated in many hearts. Feasts afforded fre- 
quent occasions for outbursts of national feeling, it being the 
custom of the guests to pass a branch of myrtle from hand to 
hand, each as he received it repeating an appropriate verse. 

A favorite banquet-song of the fifth century B.C. was the 
following eulogy of Harmo'dius and Aristogi'ton, the Athenian 
heroes who slew the tyrant Hipparchus : — 


158 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


^‘lu a wreath of myrtle I’ll wear my glaive, 

Like Harmodius aud Aristogi'ton brave, 

Who striking the tyrant down, 

Made Athens a freeman’s town. 

Harmodius, our darling, thou art not dead! 

Thou liv’st in the isles of the blest, ’tis said. 

With Achilles first in speed. 

And Tydi'des Diomede. 

In a wreath of myrtle I’ll wear my glaive. 

Like Harmo'dius and Aristogitoii brave, 

When the twain on Athena’s day 
Did the tyrant Hipparchus slay. 

For aye shall your fame in the land be told, 

Harmodius aud Aristogiton bold. 

Who, striking the tyrant down, 

Made Athens a freeman’s town.” 

Prof. Conington. 

The flower-songs of the Greeks were especially beautiful ; 
children enjoyed their nursery rhymes ; while in the Lay of 
the Swallow, the penniless bard, chanting at the gate, sought 
an avenue to the charity of his rich neighbor. 

FROM THE LAY OF THE SWALLOW. 

-- The swallow is here, the swallow is here. 

She comes to proclaim the reviving year ; 

With her jet-black hood, and her milk-white breast, 

She is come, she is come, at our behest, 

The harbinger of the beautiful spring. 

To claim your generous offering. 

Let your bountiful door its wealth outpour, 

What is little to you is to us great store ; 

A bunch of dry figs, and a savory cruse 
Of pottage the swallow will not refuse ; 

With a basket of cheese and a barley cake. 

And a cup of red wine our thirst to slake.” — M ure. 

The creations of the lyric muse are graceful, touching, and 
true to nature. We regret not to exchange the sublime heights 
of epic poetry for an humbler field in which we may commune 
with the joys and sorrows, the hopes and fears, of humanity. 
Here, as Tegner says, Greek poetry arises “ slender, smooth, 


ELEGIAC POETRY. 


'159 


erect like the palm-tree with its rich yet symmetrical crown; 
and a nightingale sits among the leaves and sings.” 

THE ELEGY. 

The lonianSj first to free themselves from kingly rule, gave 
to the Hellenic world the earliest forms of lyric poetry, — the 
elegiac couplet and the lighter iambic verse appropriate to 
satire. These twin-born metres, of Ionian parentage, grew up 
side by side in Greece. In the elegiac couplet, a dactylic line 
of five feet or their equivalent followed the sonorous hexam- 
eter,* constituting a livelier measure than the old heroic verse, 
which consisted of hexameters alone. 

The Greek elegy was not necessarily plaintive ; on the con- 
trary, it did good service in rousing to action in time ol war, 
and gave fitting expression to the spirit of the banquet-hall. 

Callinus. — The- inventor of this metre was Calli'nus of 
Eph'esus, in Ionia, who flourished between 730 and 678 B.C. 
He attempted by it to excite his countrymen against a horde 
of barbarian invaders ; but the people were too much ener- 
vated by intercourse with the effeminate nations of Asia to 
respond to his thrilling strains. 

The following is a fragment of Callinus, perhaps the oldest 
war-elegy in existence : — 

“ How long will ye slumber ? When will ye take heart. 

And fear the reproach of your neighbors at hand ? 

Fy ! comrades, to think ye have peace for your part, 

Whilst the sword and the arrow are wasting our land ! 

Shame ! grasp the shield close ! cover well the bold breast ! 

Aloft raise the spear as ye march on the foe! 

With no thought of retreat, with no terror confessed. 

Hurl your last dart in dying, or strike your last blow I 

* The following lines, wnth their long and short syllables distinguished and 
arranged as in the dactylic hexameter and pentameter, will give an idea of the 
cadence of the elegiac couplet : — 

“Give me some | m5re,” says the [ miserly | man, though as | rich as a | Crmsus; 

Never elnough in his j store, [j if he can | get any- j more. 


160 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Oh ! ’tis noble and glorious to fight for our all— 

For our country, our children, the wife of our love! 

Death comes not the sooner ! no soldier shall fall 
Ere his thread is spun out by the sisters above. 

Ouce to die is mau’s doom ; rush, rush to the fight ! 

He cannot escape, though his blood were Jove’s own ; 

For a while let him cheat the shrill arrow by flight ; 

Fate will catch him at last iu his chamber alone. 

Uulamented he dies — uuregretted? not so, 

When, the tower of his country, in death falls the brave ; 

Thrice hallowed his name amongst all, high or low. 

As with blessings alive, so with tears in the grave.” 

H. N. Coleridge. 

Tyrtaeus. — Another proficient in this variety of elegy was 
Tyrtaeus, supposed to have been born in the Attic town of 
Aphidnae. He led the Spartans in the Second Messenian 
War (685-668 B.C.), they having, by the direction of ah 
oracle, sent to Athens for a general, to secure the success 
which had before been denied them. The story is that the 
jealous Athenians despatched to their neighbors a deformed 
schoolmaster, the cripple Tyrtaeus, in the belief that his ser- 
vices would be of little value ; but they mistook. The great- 
est military genius could not have accomplished more ; for 
Tyrtaeus, by his wise counsels and inspiriting war-songs, made 
his soldiers invincible. Messenia fell, and her citizens be- 
came slaves to the Spartans. Nor, afterward, was the poetry 
of Tyrtaeus less efficacious in quelling civil dissensions and 
establishing domestic peace. In every respect, “ the Muse 
of Sparta,” as he was called, proved to be to his adopted 
country the blessing promised by the oracle. 

Tyrtaeus is said to have invented the trumpet, and intro- 
duced it as a companion to the flute, then the chief instrument 
in use. Some have interpreted the lameness of the bard as 
signifying his limping measure, the second line of the elegiac 
couplet being, as we have seen, a foot shorter than the first. 

Of the many productions of Tyrtaeus, consisting of march- 
ing-songs, as well as warlike and political elegies, only a few 


ELEGIAC POETRY. — TYRTJEUS. 


161 


fragments survive. His poems, characterized by terseness 
and impassioned power, were long popular among the Spar- 
tans, who, on a campaign, were wont to recite them after each 
evening meal to kindle afresh their martial fire. 

BATTLE-HYMN OF TYRT^US. 

Oiir country’s voice invites the brave 
The glorious toils of war to try ; 

Cursed be the coward, or the slave, 

Who shuns the fight, who fears to die. 

Obedient to the high command, 

Full fraught with patriotic fire, 

Descends a small but trusty band, 

And scarce restrains the impatient ire. 

Behold ! the hostile crowds advance; 

Unyielding, we their might oppose; 

With helm to helm, and lance to lance. 

In awful pomp we meet our foes. 

Unawed by fear, untaught to yield. 

We boldly tread the ensanguined plain ; 

And scorn to quit the martial field. 

Though drenched in blood, though heaped with slain. 

For, though stern Death assail the brave. 

His virtues endless life shall claim ; 

His fame shall mock the invidious grave. 

To times unborn a sacred name.” — Lowth. 

THE SATIRE. 

Archilochus of Pa'ros (728-660 B.C.) was the first great 
satirist, the inventor of that rapid, loosely-constructed iambic 
measure so admirably adapted to his withering lampoons. 
The son of a slave-woman, Archifochus was treated with in- 
dignity in his native island ; so bidding adieu to “ the figs and 
fishy life ” of Paros in early youth, he sailed with a colony to 
Tha'sos in the northern ^gean. His new home, however, 
disappointed his expectations ; its gold-mines yielded not the 

fortune he had dreamed of, and he denounced it as “ the sink 

G 2 


162 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


of all Hellenic ills.” The colonists becoming engaged in war 
with a neighboring people, a pitched battle proved too severe 
an ordeal for the poet’s courage, and dropping his shield he 
fled. 

Perhaps it was for this cowardly action, perhaps on account 
of his empty purse, that when he returned to Paros, one of its 
fair daughters, who had been his boyhood’s love, refused him 
her hand. Her father, also, denied his suit ; whereupon the 
furious poet poured forth in stinging verses such a torrent of 
violent invective upon the girl and her whole family, that she, 
her father, and her sisters, are said to have taken refuge from 
his scurrilous attacks in suicide. 

The public odium thus excited drove Archilochus from Pa- 
ros. But the brand of cowardice was upon him. The Spar- 
tans, whose mothers, pointing to the battle-field, were wont to 
say “ Return with your shields or upon them,” disdained the 
man who could write, 

“ That shield some Saian decks, which, ’gaiust my grain, 

I left — fair, flawless shield — beside the wood. 

Well, let it go ! I and my purse remain : 

To-morrow’s bull-skin may be just as good.” 

Insult met him at every step, till a poetical victory at the 
Olympic Games restored him to popular favor. He went 
back to Paros, an old man, to redeem his reputation as a sol- 
dier by dying in battle with the Naxians. Then all Greece 
awoke to the greatness of his genius; and the prediction of 
an oracle before his birth, that he would be “ immortal among 
men in the glory of his song,” was fulfilled. 

Fertility of invention, and an intimate acquaintance with 
human nature, were conspicuous in the poetry of Archilochus. 
Elegies and love-songs flowed from his pen, and his philosophi- 
cal poetry gained for him from Plato the epithet of “Wisest;” 
but it was in satire that classical writers conceded to him the 
highest rank. Archilochus likens himself to a hedgehog bris* 


SATIRIC POETRY. — ARCHILOCHUS. 


163 


tling with quills, whose “one great resource is worth all the 
devices of more powerful animals.” From his birthplace, ill- 
natured satire has been called Parian verse. 

So little remains of the writings of this author that we can 
hardly decide whether his countrymen judged aright in reck- 
oning him second only to Homer. The two represented dis- 
tinct departments of poetry ; each in his own, it was claimed, 
fell little short of perfection. Where Homer praised, Archil- 
ochus reviled. Their birthdays were celebrated in one grand 
festival, and a single double-faced statue perpetuated the mem- 
ory of the Epic Poet and the Parian Satirist. 

ARCHILOCHUS TO HIS SOUL. 

“ My soul, my soul, by cares past all relief 
Distracted sore, bear up ! with manly breast 
Aud dauntless mien, each fresh assault of grief 
Encountering. hostile weapons pressed. 

Stand firm. Let no unlooked-for trinmiih move 
To empty exultation, no defeat 
Cast down. But still let moderation prove 
Of life's uncertain cup the bitter and the sweet.” 

Mure. 


Greek satire had other representatives, whose names will 
be found at the end of this chapter; but their genius was 
of a lower grade. 


^OLIC AND DORIC SCHOOLS. 

Lyric poetry was the peculiar province of the ^Eolian and 
Dorian Greeks, who carried it to perfection. The Hsolic writ- 
ers were replete with intense passion, and employed lively me- 
tres of simple structure. The Dorian lyric, intended to be sung 
by choruses or to choral dances on great occasions, funerals, 
marriages, or public festivals, was a much more majestic, but 
at the same time a more intricate and artificial composition. 
The most distinguished composers of the .^Eolic School were 
Alcaeus and Sappho; of the Doric, Simonides and Pindar. 


164 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Alcaeus flourished in the latter part of the seventh century 
B.C. He was a noble of Lesbos, and lived in the stirring times 
when the constitutional and the aristocratic party contended 
for the sovereignty. In this struggle Alcaeus appears as the 
deadly foe of democratic rule ; when his friend Pittacus was 
clothed with supreme authority by the people, Alcaeus directed 
against him the keenest shafts of his satire. Pittacus defeated 
him in an attempt to overthrow the government, but gener- 
ously spared his life, saying, “ Forgiveness is better than re- 
venge.” Of the poet’s subsequent career we are ignorant. 

The ancients were loud in their praises of Alcaeus. His 
poems were polished, full of vehemence and passion, sublime 
in their denunciations of tyranny and encomiums of freedom. 
Love and wine were two of his favorite topics ; yet even his 
jovial pieces were pervaded by a loftiness of sentiment foreign 
to mere sensual songs. Among his most beautiful composi- 
tions were the odes to Sappho, whose love he once sought, but 
whose genius soared to greater heights than his. We take 
from Alcaeus 


THE CONSTITUTION OF A STATE. 

“ What constitutes a state ? 

Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, 

Thick wall or moated gate ; 

Not cities fair, with spires and turrets crowned : 

No : — Men, high-minded men, 

With powers as far above dull brutes endued, 

In forest, brake, or den. 

As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude — 

Men who their duties know. 

Know too their rights, and knowing, dare maintain ; 

Prevent the long-aimed blow, 

And crush the tyrant, while they rend the chain.” 

Sir William Jones. 

The Lesbian Poetesses. — Lesbos was the centre of lyric 
song. To its shores, the waves of ocean are fabled to have 
borne the lyre of Orpheus, which the people hung in Apollo’s 


THE LESBIAN POETESSES. 


165 


temple ; thus traditionally distinguished by fate, it became 
renowned as the home of Grecian poetesses. 

The Lesbian women were not confined to domestic duties, 
but were allowed to take part in public affairs. They founded 
societies for the cultivation of their literary tastes, and before 
all Greece vindicated the genius of their sex. And Lesbos 
was the very clime for poetry to ripen in. The love of the 
beautiful was fed on every side. The island was a paradise 
of groves and rivulets, of blossoms and perfumes. Among its 
olive-clad hills, at its fountains set in violets and fringed with 
fern, under its stately pines, and in its temples shining with 
ivory and gold, its poetesses received their inspiration. 

Sappho. — Greatest of these, and queen of her sex in intel- 
lectual endowments, was Sappho, “ the Lesbian Nightingale,” 
“ spotless, sweetly-smiling, violet-wreathed,” as Alcaeus fondly 
described her, whom all Greece knew as The Poetess, 

In her history it is difficult to separate the true from the 
fabulous. Born at Mytile'ne, the capital of the island, in the 
latter part of the seventh century B.C., she was deprived of a 
mother’s care at the age of six. In early womanhood, a new 
calamity befell her in the loss of her husband, and thenceforth 
she devoted her genius to letters, making the elevation of her 
countrywomen the great object of her life. Her reputation 
soon spread throughout Greece. Mytilene became the .seat 
of a brilliant sisterhood eager in the study of the polished 
arts; sparkling conversation enlivened its meetings; music and 
poetry were the branches its members specially cultivated ; 
love was the common subject of their verse ; their lives were 
above reproach. In the centre of this constellation of gifted 
women blazed Sappho, “ Star of Lesbian Song.” Greece, cap- 
tivated by her sweet numbers, accorded her a place by Ho- 
mer’s side — then raised her to the level of its goddesses as 
“ the Tenth Muse.” 

Ancient story made Sappho the victim of disappointed love. 


166 


GRECIAN LITERATURE, 


Overcome with passion for Pha'on, a beautiful Mytilenean 
youth notorious for his heart-breaking propensities, and find- 
ing Phaon indifferent to her advances, she is said to have 
thrown herself from the Leuca^dian promontory* and drowned 
her passion in the Ionian Sea. There is, however, no evidence 



Tiiic LoVKR’b Leap. 


* The Lencadian promontory projects from tlie southern shore of the island of 
Leucadia, off the coast of Acarnania (see IMap, p. 132). On the bluff stood a tem- 
ple of Apollo, to whom, in very ancient times, human sacrifices were yearly of- 
fered, a victim being hurled from the rock into the sea below. The priests some- 


SAPPHO AND HER STYLE. 


107 


to support the story ; on the contrary, the poetess seems to have 
been implicated with Alcaeus in a conspiracy against Pittacus, 
who then ruled in Lesbos, and to have been banished in con- 
sequence. (On the ^olic school of Sappho, consult Donald- 
son's History of the Literature of A?icient Gt'eecef p. 218.) 

Sappho’s Style. — Simplicity, tenderness, concentrated pas- 
sion, and brilliancy of description, are characteristic of Sap- 
pho’s verse. Her poetry is the very language of harmony ; 
no more musical measures than hers were known to the 
Greeks. Her favorite stanza, an invention of her own, con- 
sisted of four lines with a cadence like the following : — 

Tenderest mistress | of the heart’s emotion, 

Over whom love sweeps | as the mighty oceau^ 

Unto thee pour we | all our soul’s devotion, 

Glorious Sappho ! 

In depicting love, Sappho is unmatched. Her utterances^ 
indeed, were so intense as to be misconstrued by the sensual 
Greeks of a later day, and give rise to reports injurious to her 
good name ; or possibly she may have been confounded with 
another Sappho, of a different character; but we have no doubt 
that her life was as pure as her poetry is charming. Her 
imagery, when imagery she used, Sappho gathered from the 


times took the place of these unfortunates, but on such occasions carefully avoided 
danger by fastening to their persons flocks of live birds, the flapping of whose 
pinions during the descent broke their fall. This rite was gradually modified; 
and at one time we find the leap from the cliff used as an ordeal to test the guilt 
of suspected persons. 

In Sappho’s day it was customary for those suffering the pangs of unrequited 
affection to take the Lover’s Leap from the precipice, after secretly uttering their 
vows in the sanctuary of the god. Some, intent on suicide, were dashed to pieces 
on the rocks below or perished in the waves ; others took the precaution to buoy 
themselves up with feathers or bladders, trusting to a plunge in the cold sea or 
the bruises they might receive, to cure their passion. Queen Artemisia, of Hali- 
carnassus, lost her life in taking the Lover’s Leap, after putting out the eyes of 
the youth who would not return her attachment; and one case is recorded in 
which a man four times resorted to this perilous remedy. — The modern Greek 
sailor still calls the promontory “ the Lady’s Cape.” 


168 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


bright-tinted flowers, the starry skies, and fragrant zephyrs of 
Lesbos, where, as she sung, 

“ Througli orchard plots, with fragrance crowned. 

The clear cold fountain murmuring flows ; 

And forest leaves, with rustling sound. 

Invite to soft repose.” 

Judging from her fragments, we must admit that in her pe- 
culiar department Sappho stands without a peer. Indeed, her 
own graceful lines may well be applied to herself : — 

“ The stars that round the beauteous moon 
Attendant wait, cast into shade 
Their ineffectual lustres, soon 

As she, in full-orbed majesty arrayed. 

Her silver radiance showers 
Upon this world of ours,” — 

for the lesser lights of lyric poesy pale in the lustre of her 
genius. 

Addison, in his Spectator, makes the following remarks on 
Sappho, which are fully justified by the praises of ancient crit- 
ics : — “ Among the mutilated poets of antiquity, there are none 
whose fragments are so beautiful as those of Sappho. One 
may see, by what is left, that she followed nature in all her 
thoughts, without descending to those little points, conceits, 
and turns of wit, with which many of our modern lyrics are so 
miserably infected. Her soul seems to have been made up 
of love and poetry. She felt the passion in all its warmth and 
described it in all its symptoms. I do not know, by the char- 
acter that is given of her works, whether it is not for the bene- 
fit of mankind that they are lost. They were filled with such 
bewitching tenderness and rapture, that it might have been 
dangerous to have given them a reading.” 

It is told that a physician, by studying the symptoms of love 
as described by Sappho, detected in the mysterious sickness 
of the young Anti'ochus, son of the king of Syria, a hidden 
passion for his step-mother. . The treatment was in accord- 


SAPPHO’s POETRY. 


169 


ance with the diagnosis, the disease disappearing when the 
anxious father relinquished to the youth the beautiful object 
of his affections. 

Sappho’s description of the raptures of love, commended by 
all critics from Longinus down, is certainly a nonpareil. It 
has been thus translated by Ambrose Philips, a friend of Ad- 
dison’s : — 

A LOVE SONG. 

“ Blest as th’ immortal gods is he, 

The youth who foudly sits hy thee, 

Aud hears, aud sees thee all the while 
Softly speak aud sweetly smile. 

’Twas this deprived my soul of rest, 

Aud raised such tumults in my breast ; 

For while I gazed in transport tost, 

My breath was gone, my voice was lost. 

My bosom glowed: the subtle flame 
Ran quick through all my vital frame ; 

O’er my dim eyes a darkness hung ; 

My ears with hollow murmurs rung. 

In dewy damps my limbs were chill’d ; 

My blood with gentle horrors thrill’d ; 

My feeble pulse forgot to play ; 

I fainted, sunk, and died away.” 

The grave Solon paid our authoress a delicate compliment. 
Having heard his nephew recite one of her poems, he is said 
to have exclaimed that he would not willingly die till he had 
learned it by heart. 

The works of Sappho, comprised in nine books, embraced 
love-lays, elegies, bridal songs sometimes extended into minia- 
ture dramas, and amorous hymns to Venus and Cupid. The 
remnants are principally erotic pieces. We present below the 
Hymn to Venus, preserved entire, in which the writer delicate- 
ly makes the goddess her confidante, and modestly discloses 
the secret of her misplaced affections. 


IVO 


GRECIAN LITERATURE, 


HYMN TO VENUS. 

“ O Venus, beauty of the skies, 

To whom a thousand temples rise, 

Gayly false in gentle smiles. 

Full of love-perplexing wiles; 

O goddess ! from my heart remove 
The wasting cares and pains of love. 

If ever thou hast kindly heard 
A song in soft distress i)referred. 
Propitious to my tuneful vow, 

0 gentle goddess ! hear me now. 

Descend, thou bright immortal guest, 

In all thy radiant charms confessed. 

Thou once didst leave almighty Jove, 
And all the golden roofs above : 

The car thy wanton sparrows drew. 
Hovering in air they lightly flew ; 

As to my bower they winged their way^ 

1 saw their quivering pinions play. 

The birds dismissed (while you remain). 
Bore back their empty car again. 

Then you, with looks divinely mild. 

In every heavenly feature smiled. 

And asked what new complaints I made, 
And why I called you to my aid : 

What frenzy in my bosom raged, 

And by what oure to be assuaged: 

What gentle youth I wmuld allure ; 
Whom in my artful toils secure: 

Who does thy tender heart subdue. 

Tell me, my Sappho, tell me, who ? 

Though now he shuns thy longing arms, 
He soon shall court thy slighted charms : 
Though now thy offerings he despise. 

He soon to thee shall sacrifice ; 

Though now he freeze, he soon shall burn. 
And be thy victim in his turn. 

Celestial visitant, once more 
Thy needful presence I implore! 


Sappho’s pupils. 


171 


In pity come and ease luy grief, 

Bring my distempered soul relief; 
Favor thy suppliant’s hidden tires, 

And give me all my heart desires.” 

Ambrose Philips. 


THE ROSE. 

“ Did Jove a queen of flowers decree. 

The rose the queen of flowers should be ; 

Of flowers the eye ; of plants the gem ; 

The meadow’s blush ; earth’s diadem ; 

Glory of colors on the gaze 
Lightening in its beauty’s blaze. 

It breathes of Love ; it blooms the guest 
Of Venus’ ever-fragrant breast. 

In gaudy pomp its petals spread ; 

Light foliage trembles round its head; 

With vermeil blossoms fresh and fair 
It laughs to the voluptuous air.” — Elton. 

Sappho’s Pupils. — Doubtless many went forth from Sappho’s 
school to reflect, in their own accomplishments, the brilliancy 
of their mistress. History has preserved the names of two of 
her pupils — Damoph yla of Asia Minor, noted for a Hymn to 
Diana ; and Erinna, a Rhodian maid who shone among the 
brightest lights of Sappho’s circle, and, if we may believe the 
story, died of a broken heart when compelled by her parents 
to exchange the delights of literature for the drudgery of the 
spinning-wheel. This cruel treatment Erinna made the sub- 
ject of an affecting lament, “the Spindle,” a poem of three 
hundred hexameters, on which her reputation rests. Her 
death at the age of nineteen cheated the world of a writer 
who promised to rival Homer himself. 

“ The Spindle ” is lost ; but the following epigram on a 
virgin of Lesbos, who died on the day appointed for her 
marriage, speaks for Erinna : — 

“ The virgin Myrtis’ sepulchre am I ; 

Creep softly to the pillar’d mount of woe ; 

And whisper to the grave, in earth below, 

‘ Grave ! thou art envious in thy cruelty !’ 


172 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


To thee, now gaziug here, her harharous fate 

These bride’s adornments tell ; that, with the fire 
Of Hymen’s torch, which led her to the gate, 

Her husband burned the maid upon her pyre: 

Yes, Hymen ! thou didst change the marriage-song 
To the shrill wailing of the mourners’ throng.” 

A pointed epitaph in the Greek Anthology shows the esti- 
mation in which the poetess was held by her countrymen : — 

‘‘ These are Erinna’s songs : how sweet, though slight ! 

For she was but a girl of nineteen years ; 

Yet stronger far than wliat most men can write : 

Had death delayed, whose fame had equalled hers ?” 

Anacreon. — In the sixth century, Te'os, a seaport of Ionia, 
gave birth to the society poet, Anacreon ; who, though an 
Ionian, wrote rather in the style of the ^olian lyrics. His 
verses, however, while soft and graceful, were marked by lev- 
ity, and lacked the dignity and depth of the ^olic school. 
“ The Muse, good humor, love, and wine,” Anacreon tells us, 
were his themes ; accordingly his songs, brimming with sen- 
suality, grew in popular estimation as Greece degenerated in 
public morality. 

When his native city fell a prey to Cyrus the Persian, Anac- 
reon with the other inhabitants set sail for Thrace (540 B.C.). 
From Thrace, while yet in his youth, he withdrew to the island 
of Sa'mos whose tyrant, Polyc'rates, was a munificent patron 
of literature and art. Amid the gayety of the Samian court, 
the witty and pleasure-loving poet found a congenial home. 
Polycrates making him an intimate companion and confiding 
to him important state secrets. But the ruler of Samos was 
treacherously put to death by a Persian satrap ; about which 
time, Anacreon was invited to Athens by the tyrant Hippar- 
chus, who sent his royal trireme to bring his poet-laureate 
across the ^gean. 

At Athens, Anacreon for a time gave free rein to his pas- 
sions, joining a set of boon companions who basked in the 


ANACREON. 


1V3 


sunshine of royal favor. His voluptuous career was cut short 
by the assassination of Hipparchus, and he returned to Teos 
(repeopled during his absence), to be choked by a grape-seed 
at the advanced age of eighty-five — or, if we are to take the 
story figuratively, to fall a victim to his irrepressible love of 
the bottle. 

A statue of a drunken old man ’on the Athenian acropolis 
kept alive in the minds of the people as well the graceful odes 
of Anacreon as his prevailing weakness. His friend Simoni- 
des wrote an epitaph to his memory, in which we catch a 
glimpse of the exciting whirl of pleasures that made up his 
existence ; — 

“ Blaud mother of the grape ! all-glatldeuing vine ! 

Teeming inebriate joy ! whose tendrils bloom 
Crisp- woven in winding trail, now green entwine 
This pillar’s top, this mount, Anacreon’s tomb. 

As lover of the feast, the untempered bowl, 

While the full draught was reeling in his soul. 

He smote upon the harp, whose melodies 

Were tuned to girlish loves, till midnight fled ; 

Now, fallen to earth, embower him as he lies, 

Thy purpling clusters blushing o’er his head : 

Still be fresh dew upon the branches hung, 

Like that which breathed from his enchanting tongue.” 

The name of Anacreon is attached to about sixty odes, but 
they are all probably from five hundred to a thousand years 
later than he. Yet, if they are not by his hand, they breathe 
his spirit As a sample of these Anacreontics, we give a par- 
aphrase of 

CUPID AND THE BEE. 

Young Cupid once a rose caressed, 

And sportively its leaflets pressed. 

The witching thing, so fair to view 
One could not but believe it true, 

Warmed, on its bosom false, a bee. 

Which stung the boy-god in his glee. 

Sobbing, he raised his pinions bright, 

And flew unto the isle of light. 


174 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Where, in her beauty, myrtle-crowned, 

The Paphiau goddess sat enthroued. 

Her Cupid sought, and to her breast 
His wounded huger, weepiug, pressed. 

“ O mother ! kiss me,” was his cry — 

‘‘ O mother ! save me, or I die ; 

A winged little snake or bee 
With cruel sting has wounded me!” 

The blooming goddess in her arms 
Folded aud kissed his budding charms ; 

To her soft bosom pressed her pride, 

Aud then with truthful words replied : 

“ If thus a little insect thiug 
Can pain thee with its tiny sting. 

How languish, think you, those wlio smart 
Beneath my CuphPs cruel dart? 

How fatal must that poison prove 
That rankles on the shafts of Love !” 

Simonides (556-467 B.C.), who brought into high repute the 
Doric or Choral School while he also composed in the Ionic 
dialect, was born in Ceos, an island of the Cyclades. He was 
one of a brilliant coterie of poets attracted to Athens by the 
munificence of Hipparchus ; and after the assassination of 
the latter he withdrew to Thessaly, to find rich and powerful 
patrons there on whom to lavish his eulogies; for Simonides 
was the first poet that set a price upon his talents and turned 
his panegyrics into gold. He who, when small pay was of- 
fered, disdained to celebrate a mule victorious in the race on 
the plea that it was an ass’s daughter, when the price was 
raised found in the “ child of thunder-footed steeds ” no unfit 
subject for his facile Muse. 

In connection with this rather unpoetical eye to business, 
we are told that once Simonides, having extolled in verse one 
of his Thessalian patrons, was refused more than half the 
promised price and referred for the balance to the gods Castor 
and Pollux, whose praises filled most of the poem. The Thes- 
salian noble was still laughing at his ruse for evading pay- 
ment, when Simonides was summoned from the room to speak 


SIMONIDES. 


175 


with two strangers. Hastening out, he found that they had 
vanished ; but no sooner had he withdrawn from the apart- 
ment than the roof fell and killed all whom he had left there. 
Thus the twin deities discharged their indebtedness to the 
poet. 

The evening of his days Simonides passed in Syracuse, 
the ornament of Hi'ero’s court, the recipient of royal favors 
during his life, and at his death of the highest funeral honors. 
It was here that the poet, who was somewhat of a philoso- 
pher, confessed his inability to answer the question of the 
Syracusan monarch, “ What is God ?” 

Simonides was remarkably successful in adapting the elegy 
to funeral songs and epitaphs, and thus embalming Grecian 
heroism for the contemplation of future ages. He lived in 
the time of the Persian War, and commemorated its worthies. 
The tomb of the three hundred who fell at Thermopylae for 
the liberties of Greece bore this grand inscription from his 
pen : “ Go, stranger, and tell the Lacedaemonians that we lie 
here in obedience to their laws.’’ In his workshop the epigram 
was wrought to perfection. “The Simonidean tears” seemed 
to well up from the very depths of the heart. Among all the 
epigrammatists known to literature, none have excelled him 
whom Plato styled “the divine Simonides;” who was “the 
voice of Hellas— the genius of Fame, sculpturing with a pen 
of adamant, in letters of indelible gold, the achievements to 
which the whole world owes its civilization.” Fifty-six times, 
the last time at the age of eighty, he bore away from all com- 
petitors the prize of poetry. 

Besides dirges and epigrams, hymns, prayers, paeans, and 
processional odes, flowed from the prolific pen of Simonides. 
Long a chorus-teacher in the land of his birth, he was pecul- 
iarly fitted for the composition of solemn choral poetry. 
“The Lament of Danae,” his finest surviving work, is a noble 
specimen of the Greek lyric. It describes the Argive princess 


176 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


set adrift with her child in an ark upon the stormy billows by 
her inhuman parent. Tenderly she folds the sleeping boy in 
her arms, and prays Father Zeus that like him the sea may 
sleep. 

DANAE’S LAMENT. 

Closed in the fine-wrought chest, 

She felt the rising wind the waters move. 

Then, hy new fear possessed, 

With action wild 

And cheeks bedewed, she stretched her arms of love 
Toward Perseus : ‘ O my child. 

What sorrow wrings my breast ! 

While thou art sunk so deej) 

In infancy’s calm sleep ; 

Launched iu this joyless ark, 

Brouze-fasteued, glimmering-dark. 

Yet, pillowed on thy tangled hair. 

Thou slumberest, nor dost care 
For billows past thee bounding 
Nor breezes shrilly sounding. 

Laid in thy mantle red, sweet face, how fair! 

Ah ! but if Fear 

Had aught of fear for thee. 

Thou even to me 
Wouldst turn thy tender ear. 

But now I bid thee rest, my babe ; sleep still ! 

Rest, O thou sea ! Rest, rest, unbounded ill I 
Zeus, Father, some relief, some change from thee ! 

Am I too bold ? For his sake, pardon me !’ ” 


EPITAPH ON THE NIECE OF HIPPARCHUS. 

Archedic^, the daughter of King Hippias, 

Who in his time 

Of all the potentates of Greece was prime. 

This dust doth hide ; 

Daughter, wife, sister, mother, unto kings she was, 
Yet free from pride.” — Hobbes. 


Pindar, the friend and pupil of Simonides, the greatest mas- 
ter of the Doric School, adorned the golden age of Grecian 
literature, and will there be considered as the representative 
of lyric poetry. 


LYKIC POETRY. 


177 


MINOR ELEGIAC AND 

Mimnermus of Colophon (634-590 B.C.), 
the first to adapt the elegiac couplet 
to plaintive and erotic themes: he 
bewails the enslavement of his de- 
generate country by Lydia. Old age 
the terror of the poet ; life without 
“the gold -haired goddess” of love 
not worth living; a characteristic 
saying of his, “ When the flower of 
youth is past, it is best to die at 
once; may death strike me at my 
sixtieth year.” 

Solon, the Athenian lawgiver (638-559 
B.C.), the gnomic poet : embodied 
his moral maxims {gnomes) in elegiac 
verse; also a master of the martial 
elegy, as his famous “ Salaminian 
Ode” shows. Plato declared that 
if Solon had devoted his genius to 
the Muses, Homer might not have 
stood alone in his glor3\ 

Fheognis (583-495 B.C.), a noble of 
Meg'ara, who opposed the democratic 
faction, and was in consequence ex- 
pelled from the state and deprived of 
his hereditary lands by the Commons. 

He sang his songs in elegiac verse. 
Distinguished also as a gnomic poet. 
The following thoughts are culled 
from among his sayings: — “Wealth 
is almighty.” — “ Easy among men is 
the practice of wickedness, but hard 
the method of goodness.” — “ No one 
descends to Hades with his riches, 
nor can he by paying ransom escape 
death.” — “Prefer to live piously on 
small means to being rich on what 
is gotten unjustly.” 

Phocyl'ides of Miletus (550-490 B.C.), 
an Ionian gnomic poet whose didactic 
couplets, generally marked by sound 


IAMBIC POETS. 

sense, sometimes breathing a worldly 
spirit, began with the introductory 
phrase, “And this too is Phocylides’.” 
The following are maxims of his : — 
“ First get your living, and then think 
of getting virtue.” — “ A small city set 
upon a rock and well-governed is 
better than all foolish Nineveh.” 

Xenoph'anes of Colophon (about 540 
B.C.), founder of the Eleatic sect of 
philosophers: also an elegiac poet: 
condemns the effeminacy of his coun- 
trymen, and derides a prevailing pref- 
erence for physical over intellectual 
culture. 

THE SATIRISTS. 

Simonides the Elder, of Amorgus 
(660 B.C.),“ the lambographer :” style 
flowing and polished: masterpiece, 
a satire on women — “Even though 
they seem to be good, when one has 
got one she becomes a plague.” 

Hip'ponax of Ephesus (540 B.C.), the 
father of parody, and inventor of the 
choliambic measure, or limping iam- 
bic, in which the last foot was a spon- 
dee. He attacked the luxury and 
vice of his day, sparing neither friend 
nor relative; it is told that by his 
crushing satire a sculptor who had 
caricatured his ugly person was 
driven to suicide. It was Hipponax 
who said : “ Woman gives two days 
of happiness to man, the day of her 
bridal and the day of her funeral.” 
The stranger who passed his tomb 
was warned : 

“Wake not the sleeping wasp, for 
though he’s dead. 

Still straight and sure his crooked 
lines are sped.” 


178 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


MINOR POETS OF THE CHORAL SCHOOL. 


Alcman (671-631 B.C.), Sparta’s jovial 
lyric poet, an emancipated Lydian 
slave. 

Stesich'orus of Sicily (632-560 B.C.), 
inventor of the choric system ; named 
from his occupation Stesi-ckoms, lead- 
er of the chorus. His greatness 
foreshadowed by a nightingale that 
alighted on his infant lips and burst 
into song : hymns, fables, pastorals : 
the earliest Greek novelist; his love 
tales and romances narrated in verse. 

Terpander the Lesbian (about 650 
B.C.), the founder of Greek musical 
science, and inventor of the hepta- 
chord, or seven-stringed lyre. 


Ib'ycus, of Rhegium in southern Italy 
(540 B.C.), lived in Samos as the 
friend of Polycrates. His odes prin- 
cipally erotic; from the warmth of 
his passion, Ibycus was styled “ the 
love-maddened.” 

Bacchyl'ides (470 B.C.), the nephew 
of Simonides of Ceos: hymns, epi- 
grams, etc., in Doric : style highly 
polished : a specimen epigram is, 

“ The touchstone tries the purity of 
gold, 

And by all-conquering truth man’s 
w orth and wit are told.” 

Timoc'reon of Rhodes (471 B.C.), 
lyric poet and satirist. 


CHAPTER IV. 

RISE OF GREEK PROSE. 

Earliest Prose Writings. — For several centuries, the liter- 
ature of Greece was confined to poetry. In Hellas, as else- 
where, verse for a time at first so charmingly and completely 
filled the popular ear that there was no desire, no room, for 
prose. But, as new necessities arose, poetry could not suf- 
fice for Greece ; not with epic and lyric voice alone were her 
men of genius to gain a hearing from the world. National 
achievements must be recorded ; the people must be ap- 
pealed to in the agora; the curtain of metaphysics must be 
raised ; and so History, Oratory, and Philosophy appeared 
upon the stage. To these practical new-comers, the plain 
garb of prose was found more appropriate than the broidery 
of verse. 


EARLY PROSE WRITINGS 


179 


Moreover, the introduction of facilities for writing favored 
the development of prose literature j for, unlike poetry, it 
needed a written form to give it permanence. When the art 
of writing became familiar, and men with its help could rapidly 
inscribe their thoughts for others still more rapidly to read, 
prose, as a distinct branch of composition, was born ; and its 
birth marked an era in the intellectual growth of the Greeks. 

Ever since the introduction of letters, prose had doubtless 
been used more or less in despatches, records, laws, and official 
documents. Pherecy'des of Sy'ros and Cadmus of Miletus 
(about 550 B.C.) were the first to secure its recognition as a 
department of polite literature, the one embodying in it his 
philosophical doctrines, the other the fabulous history of his 
native land — with homely strength, if not with artistic finish. 

Era of the Sages. — In the period during which prose gained 
its first foothold flourished the Seven Sages of Greece (665- 
540 B.C.). Revolutions were then the order of the day, the 
people were beginning actively to assert their rights, and po- 
litical questions of vital interest absorbed the attention of 
thinkers. The flights of fancy became fewer, as these grave 
problems presented themselves. Philosophers strove to solve 
them at home ; patriots went abroad to study foreign institu- 
tions; and all awoke to the discovery that “knowledge is 
power.” 

The Seven Sages were gnomic poets, as well as philoso- 
phers and statesmen. Their moral and political maxims 
they usually threw into verse; but those inscribed on plates 
of metal and deposited in the temple of Apollo at Delphi, 
were in prose. In their proverbs, whether prose or poetry, 
we discern the dawn of moral philosophy. 

Solon. — The greatest of the Seven Sages were Solon and 
Thales. Solon of Athens was born about 638 B.C. After 
extensive travels and studies, he drew up for the Athenians 
(594 B.C.) the famous code called by his name, which re- 


180 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


formed many abuses and secured to the people a liberal gov- 
ernment. His laws were written in prose on the polished 

faces of triangular wooden 
prisms. These were set 
in frames, and turned on 
pivots by persons who 
wished to consult them. 
The state copy was carved 
on four -sided blocks of 

brass, and kept in the Acropolis. 

After Solon’s code was adopted, that it might be the better 
enforced, its author is said to have absented himself from 
Athens for ten years, visiting among other courts that of 
Crcesus, King of Lydia. To this visit, Croesus owed his life; 
for afterward, when chained to the stake by Cyrus the Persian, 
the truth of one of Solon’s remarks, — that no man can be ac- 
counted happy while he still lives,— flashed upon his mind, 
and he thrice called upon the name of the Athenian sage. 
Cyrus demanded an explanation of his words, and, struck 
with the truth of Solon’s saying, revoked the order of exe- 
cution and made Croesus his friend. 

Thales, of Miletus in Ionia (640—550 B.C.), was the found- 
er of Greek philosophy. Water, according to his theory, was 
the source of all things; without this element, he truly said, 
his own body would fall into dust. This doctrine he is sup- 
posed to have derived from the Egyptians, who worshipped 
the Nile as a god, being dependent on its annual inunda- 
tions for their crops. 

In mathematical science and astronomy, Thales was an 
adept. His knowledge of the latter enabled him to predict a 
solar eclipse, which took place 610 B.C., and to divide the 
year into three hundred and sixty-five days. If he was an 
author, not a line of what he wrote has survived. 

Fable. — An outgrowth of these practical times was the 



^SOP’s FABLES. 


181 


Fable, or Allegory, in which the lower animals were intro* 
duced as speakers, with the object of satirizing the follies of 
mankind, or of conveying some useful moral more pointedly 
than by means of dry argument. 

Destitute of the outward form of poetry, while in a measure 
retaining its imagery, fable may be regarded as a stepping- 
stone from the early lyrics to the stately prose of a later 
period. It at once became popular, as did also a kindred 
class of humorous tales, the characters of which were inanh 
mate objects endowed with the power of speech. An earthen 
pot, for example, is represented as clamoring loudly against 
the woman who broke it; and she, as bidding it “cease its 
plaints and show its wisdom by buying a copper ring to 
bind itself together.” 

^sop. — The great fabulist of Greece, and indeed of all 
time, was .^sop. Born a Phrygian slave about 620 B.C., he 
passed from one master to another till at last his wit gained 
him freedom. Thus left to choose his own course, he became 
a student in foreign lands. Athens was his home for a num- 
ber of years; and there, in his well-known fable of “ the Frogs 
asking Jupiter for a King,” he read a lesson both to Pisistra- 
tus the Tyrant and to the people who imagined themselves 
oppressed under his government. 

By special invitation, ^sop spent some time at the court 
of CrcESUs. Here he made the acquaintance of Solon, who 
had incurred that monarch’s displeasure by speaking lightly 
of his vaunted wealth ; and he is said .to have admonished 
the Athenian sage that a wise man should resolve either not 
to converse with kings at all, or to converse with them agree- 
ably.” — “ Nay,” replied Solon, “ he should either not con- 
verse with them at all, or converse with them usefully.” 

Croesus commissioned ^sop to go to Delphi for the pur- 
pose of sacrificing to Apollo and distributing a sum of money 
among the citizens. But ^sop quarrelled with the Del- 


182 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


phians, and taking it upon himself to withhold from them the 
Lydian gold, was seized by the enraged people and hurled 
from a precipice. Legend says that the murderers brought 
upon themselves the vengeance of heaven in the form of 
mysterious plagues. 

. While these particulars of .^sop’s life rest on rather du- 
bious authority, it is certain that as a fable-writer he was de- 
servedly appreciated in ancient Greece. At Athens, ^sop’s 
Fables became indispensable to a polite education. Their 
author does not appear to have committed them to writing; 
they passed from mouth to mouth for generations, undergoing 
more or less change. Hence we have left only the substance 
of those pointed stories over which the Athenians went into 
transports, and which Socrates amused himself by turning into 
verse during his imprisonment. The young folks of every 
age, with whom ^sop has always been a favorite, would 
applaud the Athenians for placing the statue of the world’s 
great fabulist before those of their Seven Sages. . 

When the people of Samos were on the point o’f executing 
a public officer who had robbed the treasury, they were in- 
duced to spare the offender by ^sop’s spicy fable of 

THE FOX AND THE HEDGEHOG. 

A Fox, while crossing a river, was driven hy the stream into a 
narrow gorge, and lay there for a long time nnahle to get ont, cov- 
ered with myriads of horse-flies that had fastened upon him. A 
Hedgehog, who was wandering in that direction, saw him, and tak- 
ing compassion on him, asked if he should drive away the flies that 
were so tormenting him. But the Fox begged him to do nothing of 
the sort. 

“ Why not V’ asked the Hedgehog. 

“Because,” replied the Fox, “these flies that are upon me now are 
already full, and draw but little blood ; but should you remove them, 
a swarm of fresh and hungry ones will come, who will not leave a 
drop of blood in my body.” — .James. 

Progress of Greek Prose. — An impetus was given to the 
development of Greek prose by the praiseworthy efforts of 


EARLY GREEK PROSE. 


183 


Pisistratus (537-527 B.C.), who gathered the first library in 
Greece, collected and edited the poems of Homer, and im- 
itated his kinsman Solon in laboring to elevate the literary 
taste of the people. During his administration and that of 
his sons Hippias and Hipparchus, also patrons of letters, 
prose literature took deep root throughout the Ionian col- 
onies, where history and philosophy had many representa- 
tives. 

The style of these early writers was for the most part frag- 
mentary, dry, and inelegant. It soon improved, however, 
grew into favor, and in the hands of the profound thinkers, 
fluent historians, and persuasive orators of Greece, was 
wrought into models which are still the admiration of the 
world. 


EARLY PROSE WRITERS. 


PHILOSOPHERS. 

Anaximander (bom 610 B.C.), first 
map-drawer, and introducer of the 
sundial. He represented the earth 
as cylindrical, and as the centre about 
which the stars and planets revolved; 
its inhabitants as the result of fer- 
mentation caused by the action of 
the sun’s rays on its marshes. His 
“Treatise on Nature” (547 B.C.), the 
first work on biology and the ear- 
liest philosophical essay written in 
Greek. 

Anaxim'enes (born 556 B.C.) made the 
earth a leaf-shaped mass floating in 
the air; the sun and moon flat cir- 
cular bodies; air the elementary 
principle from which all things were 
made and to which they returned: 
the soul, air. 

Heracli'tus of Ephesus (505 B.C.) 
rejected the nature -worship of his 


countrymen, and believed in an all- 
wise, omnipresent Power. He is re- 
corded to have wept continually over 
the sins of men; hence called the 
weeping philosopher. Fire the first 
principle. “ No man,” said he in al- 
lusion to the never-ceasing changes 
in the world, “can wade twice in the 
same stream.” 

HISTORIANS. 

Cadmus of Miletus (540 B.C.): “Pri- 
meval History of Miletus and Io- 
nia.” 

Acusila'us the Argive (525 B.C.): 
“Genealogies,” a prose translation 
of Hesiod’s “Theogony,” altered in 
parts to suit the theories of the au- 
thor. 

Hecat^us the Milesian (520 - 479 
B.C.), “the far - travelled man:” 
“ Genealogies,” a history of the 


184 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


mythical heroes of Greece; and a 
“ Description of the Earth,” contain- 
ing a summary of his own travels 
and explorations. 

Charon of Lampsacus (500-450 B.C.), 
the first historian to record authentic 
events: “History of the Persian 


SEVEN SAGES AND 

Solon of Athens : “ Know thyself.” 
Chi'lo of Sparta : “ Consider the end.” 

Thales of Miletus : “ Who hateth sure- 
tyship is sure.” 

Bias of Priene : “ Most men are bad.” 


War,” “Annals of Lampsacus,” 
“Chronicles of the Spartan Kings.” 

Hellani'cus of Mytilene, a noted 
compiler. 

Xanthus the Lydian : “ The Lydiaca,” 
a history of Lydia in four volumes. 


THEIR MOTTOES. 

Cleobu'lus of Lindus : “ Avoid ex- 
tremes.” 

Pit'tacus of Mytilene : “ Seize time 
by the forelock.” 

Perianuer of Corinth : “ Nothing is 
impossible to industry.” 




CHAPTER Y. 

GOLDEN AGE OF GRECIAN LITERATURE. 

(480-330 B.C.) 

The Attic Period. — In their wars with the Persians (492-479 
B.C.), the Hellenic people fully demonstrated their military 
superiority, vindicating their manhood on the fields of Mara- 
thon and Plataea, and in the sea-fight with Xerxes at Salamis. 
Under the stimulus of these national triumphs, conducing to 
national unity, as well as of the free institutions now generally 
established, the Greek mind was awakened to renewed action ; 
literature made unprecedented growth, and in the fifth century 
B.C. matured its choicest products. 

Athens, the laurel-crowned saviour of Greece, hitherto but 
an indifferent contributor to art and poetry, now became the 
centre of letters, aspiring through her statesman Pericles (469- 
429 B.C.) to both literary and political supremacy. Her At- 


THE ATTIC PERIOD. 


185 


tic dialect, nervous but not rough, harmonious without a too 
effeminate softness — the perfection of the Greek language — 
materially helped to make her the “ mother of eloquence,” the 
home of poets and philosophers, the school of the nations ; 
while Pericles extended her imperial dominion over many 
cities and islands, and filled her coffers with their tribute. Her 
sculptor Phidias devoted his genius to the erection and dec- 
oration of public edifices; his grand creations in marble 
adorned her fanes ; and the Parthenon, whose classic beauty 
has passed into a proverb, owed to him its graceful embellish- 
ments as well as its renowned statue of Minerva. Another 
colossal image of the goddess surmounted the Athenian 
Acropolis, which was crowned with noble temples ; and vota- 
ries of the sister art added to the attractions of the city with 
their brush and colors. 

It was at this noonday of Attic glory that Grecian literature 
reached its meridian. Then lyric verse climbed to heights 
before unattained; and dramatic poetry, tragic and comic, 
held its listeners spell-bound. History found distinguished 
representatives in Herodotus the Ionian, and later in Thucyd- 
ides and Xenophon, the Athenians. Philosophy, in no other 
age or clime, has had worthier teachers than Socrates, Plato, 
and Aristotle ; while the art of persuasion seemed to be im- 
personated in Pericles, Isoc'rates, ^schines {es'ke-neez\ De- 
mosthenes — all true sons of Attica. 

LYRIC POETRY. 

Pindar. — Lyric poetry culminated in the sublime odes of 
Pindar, who ushered in the golden age. Pindar was born of 
noble parents about 520 B.C., near Thebes, a city of Boeotia. 
The celestials are fabled to have danced at his birth, and the 
dropping of honey on his infant lips by a swarm of bees was 
interpreted as an omen of a brilliant literary career. 

An early display of poetical talent led his father to yield to 
H 2 


186 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


the boy’s desire and send him to Athens for instruction ; 
thence he returned to Thebes, to study under the direction of 
the Boeotian poetesses, Myrtis and Corinna, who gave the fin- 
ishing touches to his education. At the age of twenty, he 
composed an ode which established his reputation throughout 
Greece, and brought him into great request with princes and 
heroes who craved immortality for victories at the national 
games. Corinna was the rival of his youth j though she re- 
proached Myrtis for entering the lists against Pindar, she was 
herself tempted to contend with her former pupil, and five 
times bore away from him the fillet of victory. 

Pindar made choral poetry his profession, and was hand- 
somely paid out of the treasuries of the Greek princes and free 
cities for laudatory odes written to their order. But he never 
descended to flattery or falsehood ; on the contrary, he leav- 
ened his panegyrics with salutary advice, and fearlessly de- 
nounced pride, cupidity, and tyranny, even in monarchs. To 
the king of Cyrene, for example, whose tyranny afterward cost 
him his throne, he said : “ It is easy for a fool to shake the 
stability of a city, but it is hard to place it again on its foun- 
dations.” 

Pindar’s home was at Thebes, near Dirce’s fountain;* but 
he travelled much in Greece. For a time he was the honored 
guest of the Athenians ; and no wonder, for when his native 
city sided with Persia in the deadly struggle with that empire, 
the poet condemned so pusillanimous a course and upheld 
Athens in her resistance, styling her “ the Pillar of Greece.” 
It is told that he received from the Athenians a gift of 10,000 
drachmas ($1,800), and that when the Thebans mulcted him 
for the bold expression of his views, the former generously 
paid the fine. At Delphi, which Pindar often visited, the peo- 
ple contributed their finest fruits for his entertainment by 


* From which he has been called “ the Dircean Swan.” 


LYRIC POETRY. — PINDAR. 


187 


order of the priestess ; and an iron chair was set apart for 
his use in the temple, where he was wont to sit and sing the 
praises of Apollo, god of poetry. He lived four years with 
Hiero, and doubtless sojourned with others of his patrons. 
But Pindar was no boon companion of kings like Simonides, 
and while he accepted their costly presents he never forfeited 
the respect of his countrymen. 

Pindar died at the age of eighty, in the theatre, it is related, 
amid the acclamations of the audience. He had been taking 
part as usual, and overcome with weariness, rested his head 
on the knees of a favorite pupil, and fell into a slumber from 
which his friends vainly strove to wake him. A tradition, 
more in accordance with the Greek love of the marvellous, in- 
forms us that a few days before he died Proserpine (goddess 
of the lower world) appeared to him, and having reproached 
him for slighting her in his odes, announced that he should 
soon compose a song in her honor within the confines of her 
own kingdom. Shortly after, Pindar’s death occurred ; and 
on the following day, Thebes resounded with a hymn to Pros- 
erpine sung by an old woman, who declared the poet’s ghost 
had dictated it to her in a dream. 

Statues were erected to Pindar at Athens and in the hippo- 
drome of Thebes ; a hundred years after, when Alexander the 
Great destroyed the latter city in consequence of its rebellion, 
he bade his soldiers spare the house hallowed by having once 
been the residence of the Theban bard. Statues and dwelling 
have since passed away, and the only surviving monument of 
Pindar is that reared by himself in the deathless odes he has 
left us. 

The Pindaric Ode. — Pindar’s fertile pen enriched every 
department of lyric poetry ; but all his compositions are lost 
except a few fragments of paeans and dirges, with forty-five 
Triumphal Odes (which we have entire) written to commem- 
orate victories at the Great Games of Greece. 


188 


GKECIAN LITERATURE. 


These games were celebrated at Olympia, Delphi, Neme'a, 
and on the Corinthian Isthmus : they consisted of athletic 
sports, races, literary and musical contests. All Greece was 
represented at them. Peasant and prince, trader and priest, 
poet and historian, painter and sculptor, hurried to the exciting 
scene as contestants or spectators ; and the simple crown of 
olive or laurel, pine or parsley, that was placed on the con- 
queror’s brow, was valued beyond price. All that was needed 
to complete the triumph was an ode in its honor from the 
Great Lyrist. This, when obtained, was sung at an honorary 
banquet or solemn procession, amid great rejoicings ; and was 
annually rehearsed in the victor’s native town to the accom- 
paniment of soul-stirring music — for his family, town, and state, 
participated in the victor’s glory. 

Pindar’s Style is original, chaste, full of splendor and 
majestic energy. The Theban eagle, as he has often been 
called, soaring to the sun, seems to disdain the commonplace 
in his solitary flight. His style, however, is not faultless. The 
over-boldness of his metaphors confuses ; his massing of mag- 
nificent images and high-sounding epithets wearies ; his Doric 
condensation obscures his meaning; his metre is too compli- 
cated for the uneducated ear, and his transitions are so abrupt 
that the reader has difficulty in finding the connection. His 
subjects were hard to treat ; but Pindar found ‘material and 
lent variety to his odes by skilfully interweaving legendary 
lore, history, and fragments of mythology. This was by Co- 
rinna’s advice ; but her young pupil carried it to such excess 
in his first attempt that his fair teacher warned him, “ One 
should sow with the hand, not with the whole sack.” 

Pindar’s tone is everywhere moral. He merits indeed the 
title of “ Sacerdotal Poet for he upheld the religion of 
Greece in its purity, rejecting all sensual notions of “the 
blessed ones,” and asserting his faith in their holiness and 
justice. He taught the immortality of the soul ; “things of 


Pindar’s poetry. 


189 


a day ” are men, but after death there is in store “ a gladsome 
life.” His belief in an existence beyond the grave is indicated 
in the following lines from one of his dirges. And here be it 
observed that no translation can do justice to Pindar; the 
Doric diamonds cease to flash when removed from their Doric 
setting. 

“ Shines for them the sun’s warm glow, 

When ’tis darkness here helow ; 

And the ground before their towers, 

Meadow-laud with purple flowers. 

Teems with incense-bearing treen. 

Teems with fruit of golden sheen. 

Some in steed and wrestling feat, 

Some in dice take pleasure sweet. 

Some in harping : at their side 
Blooms the spring in all her pride. 

Fragrance all about is blown 
O’er that country of desire, 

Ever as rich gifts are thrown 
Freely on the far-seen fire. 

Blazing from the altar-stone. 

But the souls of the profane 
Far from heaven removed below, • 

Flit on earth in murderous pain, 

’Neath the unyielding yoke of woe ; 

While pious spirits tenanting the sky 
Chant praises to the mighty one on high.” 

CONINGTON. 

The more characteristic extract given below consists of 
portions of the Seventh Olympic Ode, in which the poet sings 
the praises of Diag'oras of Rhodes for having gained a victory 
with the cestus (made of leather thongs and worn round the 
hands in boxing). This ode was so much admired by the 
Rhodians that they wrote it in golden letters on the wall of 
Minerva’s temple at Lindus. It relates the birth of their 
patron goddess and the story of their own origin, closing with 
an invocation to Jupiter, who was worshipped on Ataby’ris, a 
mountain of the island. Here stood a temple, dedicated to 
him, containing the fabulous brazen bulls that bellowed when 
any calamity threatened. 


190 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


ODE TO DI AG OKAS. 

“ As when a sire the golden howl, 

All foaming with the dew of wine, 

Takes with a liberal hand and soul, 

Chief gem where all his treasures shine— 

Then tends the beverage (hallowed first 
By prayers to all the powers above) 

To slake the youthful bridegroom’s thirst, 

In honor of connubial love; 

The social pledge he bears on high. 

And, homeward as his course he bends. 

Blesses the fond connubial tie. 

Admired by all his circling friends; 

E’en thus I bring the nectared strain, 

The Muses’ ^ift, to those who gain 
The Pythian and Olympic crown ; 

Thrice blest, to whom ’tis given to share 
The arduous fruit of mental care. 

Cheered by the voice of high renown ! 

Full many a victor in the fray 
My life-inspiring strains survey — 

Which bid the sweet-toned lyre its music raise. 

And wake the sounding flutes through all their notes 
of praise. 

And now, Diagoras, to thee 
They breathe united melody. 

When Rhodes, the warlike isle, is sung, 

Apollo’s bride from Venns sprung; 

He too, the hero brave and bold. 

With hardy frame of giant mould. 

Who, by Alphe'us’ sacred tide. 

And where Castalia’s waters glide. 

First in the cestus’ manly fray. 

Bore the triumphant prize away. 

Let Damage'tus next, his sire. 

To justice dear, the strain inspire. 

Fixed on that isle which three fair cities grace, 

Where Embolus protects wide Asia’s coast, 

They dwell united with the Argive host. 

In that blest isle secure at last, 

’Twas thine, Tlepolemus, to meet 
For each afflictive trial past 

A recompense and respite sweet. 


EXTRACT FROM PINDAR. 


191 


Chief of Tirynthiau hosts, to thee, 

As to a preseut deity. 

The fumes of slaughtered sheep arise 
lu all the pomp of sacrifice : 

Awarded by thy just decree. 

The victor gains his verdant prize — 

That crown whose double honors glow, 
Diagoras, around thy brow ; 

On which four times the Isthmian pine, 

And twice the Nemean olive shine ; 

While Athens on her rocky throne 
Made her illustrious wreath his own. 

Trophies of many a well-fought field 
He won in glory’s sacred cause, 

The Theban tripod, brazen shield 
At Argos, and Arcadia’s vase. 

Her palms Bceotia’s genuine contests yield j 
Six times .^giua’s prize he gained. 

As oft Pellene’s robe obtained, 

And graved in characters of fame. 

Thy column, Megara, records his name. 

Great sire of all, immortal Jove! 

On Atabyris’ mount enshrined. 

Oh ! still may thy propitious mind 
The encomiastic hymn approve. 

Which celebrates in lawful strain 
The victor on Olympia’s plain. 

Whose valorous arm the cestus knows to wield. 

Protected by thy constant care. 

In citizens’ and strangers’ eyes 
Still more exalted shall he rise ^ 
Whose virtuous deeds thy favor sh^tr^ 

Since he, to violence and fraud unknown. 

Treads the straight paths of equity alone ; 

His fathers’ counsels mindful to pursue. 

And keep their bright example still in view. 

Then let not inactivity disgrace 
The well-earned fame of thine illustrious race. 
Who sprang from great Calli'anax, and crown 
The Erat'idaj with splendor all their own. 

With joy and festal hymns the streets resound — 
But soon, as shifts the ever-varying gale. 

The storms of adverse fortune may assail — 
Then, Rhodians, be your mirth with sober temper- 
an ce cro w n ed. ” — W hkelwright. 


192 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Antimachus. — An elegiac poet of the golden age was An^ 
tim'achus of Col'ophon, whose “Ly'de,” an elegy on his lost 
love, enjoyed considerable celebrity. When, however, Antim- 
achus undertook to read his long “ Theba'is ” to an audience, 
their patience became .exhausted and one after another de- 
parted, until finally he had but a single listener left, — the 
young Plato. 

DRAMATIC POETRY. 

Rise of the Attic Drama. — The Greek drama, like the Hin- 
doo, had a religious origin. In the festivals of Bacchus, the 
wine-god, which consisted of licentious dances and songs round 
his altar by persons disguised in goat-skins as fauns and satyrs 
(beings half-man and half-goat), we must look for its earliest 
phase. From the dress of those who composed the chorus, 
or because a goat was sacrificed, or a goat-skin of wine award- 
ed to the poet who wrote the best ode for the occasion, such 
ode was called a tragedy {goat-song ) ; and the name was after- 
ward extended to the entire department of dramatic poetry to 
which these rude hymns gave rise. 

Comedy, on the contrary, was elaborated from the village- 
songs rife during the gala-days of the vintage, when companies 
of noisy revellers (in Greek, kdmoi)^ their cheeks stained with 
wine-lees, went about from town to town, plunging into all 
kinds of excesses, and garnishing their songs with jokes at 
the expense of the spectators. 

The Father of Greek tragedy was Thespis, the Icarian,* 
who refined the coarse Bacchanalian orgies, and introduced a 
single actor (generally sustaining the part himself), to alter- 
nate with the chorus or enter into a dialogue with its leaders 
(536 B.C.). Between the hymns, the poet, having smeared his 
face with paint, would mount a table and recite with copious 

* The true site of the deme of Icaria, the birthplace of the drama, was discov- 
ered in eastern Attica in the spring of 1888 , by Prof. A. C. Merriam, of Columbia 
College. 


DRAMATIC POETRY. 


193 


gestures some mythological legend, perhaps relating to BaC' 
chus. 

With a trained chorus, Thespis strolled about Greece, stop- 
ping at the towns to give his exhibitions on the wagon which 
carried his machinery and skin-clad troupe. Dancing was a 
prominent feature of his entertainments. His pupil Phryn'i- 
cus improved the performance by exchanging myths for real 
events and introducing female characters ; but the recitations 
were still disconnected and the plays lacked method ; albeit 
Phrynicus was fined by the Athenians for moving their feel- 
ings too deeply by one of his pieces. 

Birth of Tragedy. — Out of these rude materials, ^schylus, 
who was born about ten years after the first Thespian exhibi- 
tion, constructed genuine tragedy. He added a second actor 
and remodelled the chorus, making it secondary to the dia- 
logue, and instituting a connection between its songs and the 
events represented on the stage. Appropriate theatrical cos- 
tumes, stationary scenery, painted masks, and thick-soled bus- 
kins to increase the height of the performers, complete the 
list of his innovations. Thus the goat-song of early days de- 
veloped into the true drama {action), the crowning effort of 
Greek genius. Athens had the honor of creating and per- 
fecting it; while in other departments of verse she fell be- 
hind her neighbors, in dramatic poetry she eclipsed them all. 

The love of the theatre grew into a passion at Athens. 
When the first rude structure of boards gave way under the 
weight of the audience, her citizens erected a permanent edi- 
fice of semicircular form, whose seats, rising in tiers, were 
hewn in the rocky side of the Acropolis. This new theatre 
accommodated thirty thousand persons, who sat under the 
shadow of Athens’ patron-goddess, and with reverent gaze 
w’atched actors and chorus go through their parts round the 
altar of Bacchus. 

The performances took place by day, and in the open air. 


194 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


the theatre not being roofed. They began immediately after 
the morning meal, and on great occasions seats were secured 
and occupied during the preceding night. It was the custom 
of those who desired a comfortable sitting to bring their own 
cushions. Tickets of admission at first cost one drachma 
(i8 cents); but Pericles reduced the price to six cents, and 
thus placed dramatic entertainments within the reach of the 
poorest citizens. The audience sometimes remained in the 
theatre twelve hours, gossiping during the intervals, and re- 
freshing themselves with cake, wine, and sweetmeats. — In an- 
cient Greece, the actor’s profession was lucrative and honora- 
ble ; dramatic authors not unfrequently performed parts in 
their own plays. (Read Donaldson's Theatre of the Greeks.") 

Under the favoring skies of Athens the drama advanced to 
perfection with marvellous rapidity. In the hands of ^schy- 
ius it was all grandeur ; Sophocles invested it with beauty, 
and Euripides with pathos. These three tragic poets, almost 
contemporaries, were the brightest ornaments of the Attic cap- 
ital, where there were many bright. Their triumphs cover a 
period of seventy-eight years (484-406 B.C.), including the 
proud age of Pericles, but extending beyond it till the Pelo- 
ponnesian War had deprived Athens of her supremacy. Si- 
multaneously with Sophocles and Euripides flourished Aris- 
tophanes, under whom comedy reached its climax. 

It has been computed that during the golden age 250 dra- 
matic poets flourished, who produced more than 3,400 plays. 
Out of this vast number, only 44 have survived to our tinie. 

iEschylus (525-456 B.C.). — Eleusis, a hamlet of Attica, was 
the birthplace of ^schylus. It is related that in his youth he 
was charged with watching grapes, and overcome by slumber, 
saw Bacchus in his dreams, who bade him devote himself to 
tragedy. The boy forgot not the injunction ; he applied him- 
self diligently to study, and in his twenty-fifth year contended, 
though unsuccessfully, for the chaplet of ivy. 


^SCHYLUS. 


195 


Ten years afterward, he acquitted himself so bravely in the 
battle of Marathon as to receive a special prize, and have his 
deeds immortalized in a painting which was hung in the thea- 
tre at Athens. He also won distinction at Salamis and Pla- 
taea ; and the name of one of his brothers was long remem- 
bered in connection with the sinking of the Persian admiral’s 
galley. During the flourishing period of Athenian history 
that followed, the literary reputation of u^schylus became as 
great as his military renown. He was the hero of thirteen 
poetical victories. 

In 468 B.C. ^schylus left Athens for the court of Hiero, 
the Syracusan prince, round which so many great men clus- 
tered.' According to some, the unjust award of the tragic 
prize to Sophocles, for political reason.s, was the cause of his 
going. The more probable account is that his exile followed 
a public accusation of impiety, for disclosing certain religious 
mysteries in one of his plays. The popular excitement ran 
high ; the poet was attacked with stones, when his brother 
happily averted the fury of the mob by uncovering before them 
the stump of his own arm, which had been mutilated at Sala- 
mis in defence of his country. 

Hiero received our author hospitably ; and the poet made 
return by writing for him a drama called “the Women of 
Etna.” .^Eschylus may have visited Athens after this; but 
if so, he returned to Sicily to die, in the sixty-ninth year of 
his age. While he sat in a field near Gela absorbed in 
thought, so the fable goes, an eagle, hovering over the spot 
with a tortoise in its talons, let the tortoise fall on his bald 
crown, which it mistook for a shining cobble-stone, for the 
purpose of breaking the shell. The bird’s aim was true ; 
and the blow fractured the poet’s skull. Thus, in fulfilment 
of an oracular prediction, ^schylus received his death-stroke 
from heaven. 

In sublimity and power of dealing with the terrible, ^schy- 


196 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


ius is unequalled. Even the resources of the versatile Greek 
tongue were hardly adequate to the expression of his con- 
ceptions. He found congenial subjects only among the 
gods and demigods of mythology or the tragical events of 
the heroic period. His genius enabled him to give life 
and shape to the vast and the supernatural, as few others 
have done — and most effectively, though his plot is always 
simple. 

Sir Walter Scott thus speaks of ^schylus in his Essay 
on the Drama: — “At his summons, the mysterious and 
tremendous volume of destiny, in which are inscribed the 
dooms of gods and men, seemed to display its leaves of iron 
before the appalled spectators ; the more than mortal voices 
of deities, Titans, and departed heroes, were heard in awful 
conference ; Olympus bowed, and its divinities descended ; 
earth yawned, and gave up the pale spectres of the dead; 
and the yet more undefined and grisly forms of those in- 
fernal deities who struck horror into the gods themselves. 
All this could only be dared and done by a poet of the 
highest order.” 

But seven of the seventy-five tragedies of ^schylus are 
extant. Of these, “ Prometheus Chained ” is considered the 
greatest, and from it we have selected our extracts. The 
opening scene is laid on the grim ocean’s shore near frown- 
ing Caucasus, to which, in obedience to Jove’s command, 
the giant Prometheus is to be chained. For thirty thousand 
years a vulture is to tear his vitals, constantly growing out 
afresh, as a punishment for his having given fire to mortals, 
and taught them useful arts in opposition to the will of 
heaven. Strength and Force, grandly personified, drag the 
victim to the place of torture; and Vulcan, the god of fire, 
rivets his fetters to the rock. The chorus is composed of 
sea-nymphs, who come to offer their sympathy to the sufferer 
and advise him to submit ; but Prometheus, who is the em- 


PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 


197 


bodiment of stern independence, fortitude, and decision, en- 
dures unyieldingly to the last. Even amid “ the thunder’s 
deepening roar, blazing wreaths of lightning, and eddying 
sands whirled on high,” while the earth rocks to its centre, 
and “ boisterous billows rise, confounding sea and sky,” he 
hurls a proud defiance at his oppressors. 

SCENE FROM PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 

STROPHE. 

“ Thy dire disasters, unexampled wrongs, 

I w^eep, Prometheus. 

From its soft founts distilled, the flowing tear 
My cheek bedashes. 

’Tis hard, most hard ! By self-made laws Jove rules, 

And ’gainst the host of primal gods he points 
The lordly spear. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

With echoing groaus the ambient waste bewails 
Thy fate, Prometheus ; 

The neighboring tribes of holy Asia weep 
For thee, Prometheus. 

For thee and thine ! names mighty and revered 

Of yore, now shamed, dishonored, and cast down, 

Aud chained with thee. 

STROPHE. 

And Colchis, with her belted daughters, weeps 
For thee, Prometheus ; 

And Scythian tribes, on earth’s remotest verge. 

Where lone Maeotis’^ spreads her wintry waters. 

Do weep for thee. 

ANTISTROPHE. 

The flower of Araby’s wandering warriors weep 
For thee, Prometheus ; 

Aud they who high their airy holds have perched 

On Caucasus’ ridge, with pointed lances bristling, 

Do weep for thee. 


* The Sea of Azof. 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


EPODE. 

Oue only vexed like thee, and even as thou 
In adamant hound, 

A Titan, and a god scorned by the gods. 

Atlas I knew. 

He on his shoulders the surpassing weight 

Of the celestial pole stoutly upbore. 

And groaned beneath. 

Roars billowy Ocean, and the Deep sucks back 

Its waters when he sobs ; from earth’s dark caves 
Deep hell resounds ; 

The fountains of the holy-streaming rivers 
Do moan with him. 

Prometheus. — Deem me not self-willed nor with pride 
high-strung. 

That I am dumb ; my heart is gnawed to see 
Myself thus mocked and jeered. These gods, to whom 

Qw^ they their green ad van cement but jto-2iLe.l 

But this ye know ; and, not to teach the tangh^) 

I ’ll speak of it no more. Of human kind. 

My great offence in aiding them, in teaching 
The babe to speak, and rousing torpid mind 
To take the grasp of itself — of tliis I ’ll talk ; 

Meaning to mortal men no blame, but only 
The true recital of mine own deserts. 

For, soothly, having eyes to see they saw not, 

And hearing heard not ; but, like dreamy iihantoms, 

A random life they led from year to year. 

All blindly floundering on. No craft they knew 
With woven brick or jointed beam to pile 
The sunward porch ; but in the dark earth burrowed 
And housed, like tinj^ ants in sunless caves. 

No signs they knew to mark the wintry year: 

The flower-strewn Spring, and the fruit-laden Summer, 
Uncalendared, unregistered, returned — 

Till I the difficult art of the stars revealed. 

Their risings and their settings. Numbers, too, 

I taught them (a most choice device),. and how 
By marshalled signs to fix their shifting thoughts. 

That Memory, mother of Muses, might achieve 
Her wondrous works. I first slaved to the yoke 
Both ox and ass. I, the rein-loving steeds 
(Of wealth’s gay-flaunting pomp the chiefest pride) 
Joined to the car; and bade them ease the toils 
Of laboring men vicarious. I the first 
Upon the lint-winged car of mariner 


PROMETHEUS CHAINED. 


199 


Was launched, sea-waudering. Such wise arts I found, 

To soothe the ills of man’s ephemeral life ; 

But for myself, plunged in this depth of woe, 

No prop I find. 

Chorus. — Sad chance! Thy wit hath slipt 
From its firm footing then when needed most. 

Like some unlearned leech who many healed, 

But being sick himself, from all his store, 

Cannot cull out one medicinal drug. ^ 

Prometheus. — Hear me yet further ; and in hearing marvel 
What arts and curious shifts my wit devised. 

Chiefest of all, the cure of dire disease 
Men ow’^e to me. Nor healing food, nor drink. 

Nor unguent knew they, hnt did slowly wither 
And waste away for lack of pharmacy. 

Till taught by me to mix the soothing drug 

And check corruption’s march, I fixed the art * 

Of divination with its various phase 

Of dim revealings, making dreams speak truth. 

Stray voices, and eucounters by the way 

Significant ; the flight of taloned birds 

On right and left I marked — these fraught with ban. 

With blissful augury those. I first did wrap 
In the smooth fat the thighs ; first burnt the loins. 

And from the flickering flame taught men to spell 
No easy lore, and cleared the fire-faced signs*^ 

Obscure before. Yet more : I probed the earth. 

To yield its hidden wealth to help man’s weakness- 
iron, copper, silver, gold. None but a fool, 

A prating fool, will stint me of this praise. 

And thus, with one short word to sum the tale, 

Prometheus taught all arts to mortal men.” 

John Stuart Blackie. 

Prometheus may be regarded as typifying the spirit of 
progress, bound by the shackles of inevitable destiny, chaf- 
ing under its enslavement, but enduring contumely and suf- 
fering rather than yield to tyranny. The weird wail of lo on 
leaving Prometheus, wrung from her by the persecution of 
Juno, is thus rendered by Mrs. Browning, with all the wild- 
ness and fire of the original : — 

* The sacrificial flame, from which omens were taken. 


200 


GKECIAN LITEEATUKE. 


“ lo. — Eleleii ! Eleleii ! 

How the spasm and the pain, 

And the tire on the brain, 

Strike me burning through ! 

How the sting of the curse, all aflame as it flew, 

Pricks me onward again ! 

How my heart, iu its terror, is spuniiug my breast ! 

And my eyes, like the wheels of a chariot, roll round ; 
I am whirled from my course, to the east and the Avest, 
In the whirlwind of frenzy all madly inwound — 

And my mouth is unbridled for anguish and hate. 
And my words beat iu vain, in wild storms of unrest. 

On the sea of desolate fate.” 


EXTANT PLAYS OF ^SCHYLUS. 


Prometheus Chained. 

Seven against Thebes. Founded on 
the siege of Thebes by seven Argive 
chiefs, who espouse the cause of 
Polyni'ces against his brother Ete'- 
ocles, the latter having seized the 
crown contrary to agreement. A 
great favorite, and the poet’s special 
pride. 

The Persians. Subject, the over- 
throw of Xerxes : thought to be the 
oldest Greek drama extant. 

The Suppliants. Danaus and his 
fifty daughters solicit of the king of 
Argos protection from their enemies. 
The weakest of the seven. 


Agamemnon. The murtler of Aga- 
memnon, on his return ticm Troy, 
by his wife Clytemnestra and her 
paramour JEgisthus, is the material 
part of the plot. 

Choephor.e (libation-bearers). Based 
on the avenging of the crime by Ores- 
tes, Agamemnon’s son, who slays his 
mother and her guilty partner. 

The Furies. Here we have the pur- 
suit of the parricide by the Furies. — 
Clytemnestra, the Lady Macbeth of 
the Greek stage ; her deep-laid plan, 
her cunning w'elcome of her husband, 
the fatal strokes dealt by her own 
hand, her fiendish glorying in the deed 
of blood, — touched with masterly skill. 


The three tragedies last named constitute what is called a trilogy^ or group of 
three dramas founded upon one story. “Prometheus Chained” was one of a 
trilogy, of which the other two members are lost. 


Sophocles (495“4 oS B.C.), the rival of ^schylus, was born 
at Colo'nus, an Attic borough a short mile from the capital. 
He was fortunate in having a father able to give him a liberal 
education, and entered the service of the Muses at an early 
age. His skill in music and the exercises of the gymnasium 
won him many a garland ; and when hardly sixteen, unrobed 


SOPHOCLES. 


201 


and crowned, he led the choir of boys with his ivory lyre in 
the chant of triumph which the Athenians poured forth round 
the trophy raised at Salamis. 

Sophocles made his debut as a tragic writer in that success- 
ful contest with ^schylus which, some think, cost Athens her 
grand old dramatist. Fame spread the news, and Greece 
looked to Sophocles as the coming man. A succession of 
plays extended his popularity. He added nineteen prizes to 
the one wrested from ^schylus in 468 B.C. In the year 440 
he completed the drama of “ Antig one,” the oldest of his 
seven surviving tragedies, which secured for him an impor- 
tant official position. The “ Antigone ” ushered in the most 
active portion of its author’s literary life, during which eighty- 
one of his pieces were written. Although history throws lit- 
tle light on this period of his career, we know that, unlike his 
great contemporaries, he never left his native city to enjoy 
the munificence of foreign patrons. The Greek theatre was 
indebted to him for a third actor, improvements in scenery, 
and a further modification of the chorus, which no longer 
took an active part in the play. 

In his eightieth year, Sophocles was chaVg^d with imbecili- 
ty by an ungrateful son, who regarded with jealous eyes his 
partiality for a favorite grandchild, and hoped in this way to 
obtain control of his property. The defence of the alleged 
dotard was to read before his judges a choral song from a play 
which he had just finished — “CEdipus at Colonus” (p. 206). 
The vindication was complete; the judges at once rendered a 
decision in the old poet’s favor, and in a burst of enthusiasm 
bore him home in triumph. He died at the age of ninety. 
Some tell us that while he was repeating the pathetic plaints 
of his “ Antigone,” his breath suddenly ceased ; others, that 
after gaining a tragic victory, he died of excessive joy as the 
crown was placed on his brow. He left the Athenians 113 
dramas. 


I 


202 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Style of Sophocles. — As ^schylus is the impersonation 
of grandeur, so is Sophocles of beauty and harmony. He de- 
scends from the sublime heights .^schylus loved to tread, and, 
appealing to our sympathy with humanity, finds his way into 
the secret chambers of the heart. His language is pure ; his 
style, elegant, dignified, vivacious — faultless ; in allusion to his 
sweet diction, he was called by the ancients the Bee of Attica. 
The type of manly beauty and intellectual power, aesthetic 
culture and lofty morality, it seems as if Sophocles had been 
“ specially created to represent Greek art in its most refined 
and exquisitely balanced perfection.” 

The Masterpiece of Sophocles is “ King CEdipus.” Lai- 
us, a Theban monarch, told by an oracle (such was the legend) 
that his children would be the cause of his death, had his in- 
fant son CEdipus exposed on Mount Cithaeron, hoping thus to 
escape his destiny. But the boy was discovered by some 
herdsmen and carried to Corinth, where he grew to man’s 
estate as the adopted son and heir of the king. 

Warned at the Delphic shrine to beware of his native land 
lest he should imbrue his hands in his father’s blood, and be- 
lieving Corinth to *be his birthplace, he withdrew to Thebes ; 
but on the way he met Laius, and, not knowing who he was, 
killed him in a quarrel. Arrived at Thebes, he won the hand 
of the widow Jocasta, his own mother, who bore him four chil- 
dren. All went well for a time. At length, however, an epi- 
demic broke out; and the oracle assigned as its cause the 
presence of the late king’s murderer. CEdipus strained every 
nerve to discover the offender, and at last, to his horror, fas- 
tened the crime, and the more terrible guilt of parricide, upon 
himself. Unhappy Jocasta hanged herself in the palace, and 
CEdipus in his frenzy beat out his eyes with her gold-embossed 
buckles. 

The play opens at Thebes, during the plague. CEdipus, in 
conversation with a priest and Creon, Jocasta’s brother, is in- 


EXTRACT FROM SOPHOCLES. 


203 


formed of Apollo’s will, — that, to avert the evil, the land must 
be purified by the punishment of the assassin. After the 
catastrophe above related, blinded CEdipus bemoans his lot in 
heart-rending utterances, but finally accepts his fate with res- 
ignation. We give the 

CLOSING SCENE OF KING (EDIPUS. 

\^Enter Creon.'] 

Creon. — I have not come, O CEdipus, to scorn, 

Nor to reproach thee for thy former crimes ; 

But ye, if ye have lost your sense of shame 
For mortal men, yet reverence the light 
Of him, our King, the Sun-god, source of life. 

Nor sight so foul expose unveiled to view. 

Which neither earth, nor shower from heaven, nor light. 

Can see and welcome. But with utmost speed 

Convey him in ; for nearest kin alone 

Can meetly see and hear their kindred’s ills. 

CEdipus. — Oh ! by the gods ! since thou, beyond my hopes, 

Dost come all noble unto me all base, 

In one thing hearken. For thy good I ask. 

Creon. — A nd what request seek’st thou so wistfully? 

CEdipus. — Cast me with all thy speed from out this land, 

Where never more a man may look on me ! 

Creon. — Be sure I would have done so, but I wished 
To learn what now the God will bid us do. 

CEdipus. — The oracle was surely clear -enough 
That I, the parricide, the pest, should die. 

Creon. — S o ran the words. But in our present need 
’Tis better to learn surely what to do. 

CEdipus. — And will ye ask for one so vile as I ? 

Creon. — Yea, now thou too would’st trust the voice of God, 

CEdipus. — And this I charge thee, yea, and supplicate : 

For her within, provide what tomb thou wilt, 

For for thine own most meetly thou wilt care. 

But never let this city of my fathers 
Be sentenced to receive me as its guest ; 

But suffer me on yon lone hills to dwell. 

Where stands Cithseron, chosen as my tomb 
While still I lived, by mother and by sire, 

That I may die by those who sought to kill. 

And for my boys, O Creon, lay no charge 
Of them upon me. They are grown, nor need. 

Where’er they be, feel lack of means to live. 

But for my two poor girls, all desolate. 


204 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


To whom their table never brought a meal 
Without my presence, but whatever I touched 
They still partook of with me — these I care for. 

Yea, let me touch them with my hands, and weep 
To them my sorrows. Grant it, O my prince ! 

O born of noble nature ! 

Could 1 but touch them with my hands, I feel 
Still I should have them mine, as when I saw. 

lEnter Antigone and Ismene.'] 

What say I ? What is this ? 

Do I not hear, ye gods ! their dear, loved tones. 

Broken with sobs, and Creon, pitying me. 

Hath sent the dearest of my children to me ? 

Is it not so ? 

Creon. — It is so. I am he who gives thee this. 

Knowing the joy thou hadst in them of old. 

CEdipus. — Good luck have tliou ! And may the Powers on 
high 

Guard thy path better than they guarded mine ! 

Where are ye, O my children ? Come, oh ! come 
To these your brother’s hands, which but now tore 
Your father’s eyes, that once were bright to see. 

Who, O my children, blind and knowing naught. 

Became your father — how, I may not tell. 

I weep for you, though sight is mine no more. 

Picturing in mind the sad and dreary life 
Which waits you in the world in years to come ; 

For to what friendly gatherings will ye go, 

Or festive joys, IVom-whence, for stately show. 

Once yours, ye shall not home return in tears? 

Who is there, O my children, rash enough 
To make his own the shame that then will fall 
On those who bore me, and on you as w ell ? 

What evil fails us here ? Such shame as this 
Will men lay on you, and who then will dare 
To make you his in marriage ? None, not one. 

My children! bnt ye needs must waste away, 

Unw^edded, childless. Thou, Menoecens’ sou. 

Since thou alone art left a father to them, 

Sutfer them not to wander husbandless. 

Nor let thy kindred beg their daily bread ; 

But look on them with pity, ^Seeing them 
At their age, but for thee, deprived of all. 

O noble soul, I pray thee, touch my hand 
In token of consent. And ye, my girls. 

Had ye the minds to hearken, I would fain 
Give ye much counsel. As it is, pray for me 


KING CEDirUS. 


205 


To live where’er is meet; and for yourselves 
A brighter life than his ye call your sire. 

Creox. — Enough of tears and words. Go thou within. 

CEdipus. — I needs must yield, however hard it be. 

Creox. — I n their right season, all things prosper best. 

CEdipus. — Know’st thou my wish ? 

Creox. — Speak, and I then shall hear. 

CEdipus. — That thou should’st send me far away from home ? 

Creox. — Thou askest what the gods alone can give. 

CEdipus. — And yet I go most hated of the gods. 

Creox. — And therefore it may chance thou gaiu’st thy wish. 

CEdipus. — And dost thou promise, then, to grant it me ? 

Creox. — I am not wont to utter idle words. 

CEdipus. — Lead me then hence. 

Creox. — Go thou, but leave the girls. 

CEdipus. — -Ah ! take them not from me. 

Creox. — Thou must not think 

To have thy way in all things all thy life. 

Thou hadst it once, yet went it ill with thee. 

Chorus. — Ye men of Thebes, behold this CEdipus, 

Who knew the famous riddle* and was noblest, 

Who envied no one’s fortune and success : 

And lo ! in what a sea of direst woe 

He now is plunged. From hence the lesson draw. 

To reckon no man happy till ye see 

The closing day ; until he pass the bourn 

Which severs life from death, unscathed by woe.” — Plumptre. 

CEdipus ended his days in exile at Colonus, where he was 
received by Theseus, the hero of Attica, and attended to the 
last by his faithful daughter Antigone. His death is the 
subject of the play “CEdipus at Colonus,” written at the 
close of the poet’s life and reflecting the gentleness and se- 
renity of his last days. It contains one of the gems of Soph- 
ocles — that chorus which has immortalized the lovely sce- 
nery about Colonus — which the old poet recited before the 
Athenian judges to prove his sanity. Bulwer furnishes us 
a spirited version of this famous passage: — The chorus in- 
forms the outcast CEdipus that he has come to Colonus, 

* The riddle proposed by the Sphinx : “ What animal is that which goes on 
four feet in the morning, two at noon, and three at evening V” The answer of 
CEdipus was, Man. 


206 


GKECIAN LITERATURE. 


“ Where ever and aye, through the greenest vale, 

Gush the wailing notes of the nightingale, 

From her home where the dark-hued ivy weaves 
With the grove of the god a night of leaves; 

And the vines blossom out from the lonely glade. 

And the suns of the summer are dim in the shade. 

And the storms of the winter have never a breeze, 

That can shiver a leaf from the charmM trees; 

For there, oh ! ever there 
With that fair mountain throng. 

Who his sweet nurses were. 

Wild Bacchus holds his court, the conscious woods among! 
Daintily, ever there. 

Crown of the mighty goddesses of old, 

Clustering Narcissus with his glorious hues 
Springs from his bath of heaven’s delicious dews. 

And the gay crocus sheds his rays of gold. 

And wandering there forever 
The fountains are at play. 

And Cephissus feeds his river 

From their sweet urns, day by day ; 

The river knows no dearth ; 

Adown the vale the lapsing waters glide. 

And the pure rain of that pellucid tide 

Calls the rife beauty from the heart of earth ; 

While by the banks the Muses’ choral train 

Are duly heard — and there Love checks her golden rein.” 


EXTANT PLAYS OF SOPHOCLES. 


King CEdipus: this and the next two 
tragedies form a trilogy. 

(Edipus at Colonus: well adapted 
to flatter the local pride of the Athe- 
nians. 

Antigone : based on the story of “ the 
Seven against Thebes.” Antigone 
was the daughter of (Edipus. Her 
uncle, King Creon, forbids the burial 
of her brother Polyni'ces, the in- 
stigator of the war and one of its 
victims. Sisterh^ affection proves 
stronger than fear of the royal de- 
cree ; Antigone performs the last sad 
offices for her brother, and is en- 
tombed alive for her disobedience. 


The Tkachinian Women: subject, the 
poisoning of Hercules by his wife 
Deianira. 

Electuv: called from the heroine, 
Electra, daughter of Agamemnon, 
who is overpowered by hatred for 
her unnatural mother and iEgisthus. 
The plot culminates with the slaugh- 
ter of the guilt}’’ pair by Orestes the 
avenger. Finest passage, the meet- 
ing between Orestes and his sister. 

Ajax : founded upon the madness of 
Ajax in consequence of the bestowal 
of Achilles’ arms on Ulysses in pref- 
erence to himself; his suicide and 
funeral. 


EUlilPIDES. 


207 


Philoctk'tes : the hero was a Thes- 
salian prince, whom the Greeks 
treacherously abandoned on the isl- 
and of Lemnos. Afterward, when 
informed by the oracle that Troy 


would not fall until the arrows ot 
Hercules, which Philoctetes had, 
were brought to bear on its defend- 
ers, they induced him to take part in 
the war. 


Euripides. — In 480 B.C., on the island of Salamis, while 
the battle that was to decide the future of Greece raged 
in the neighboring waters, Euripides first saw the light, 
^schylus, in his prime, was at the time bravely fighting on 
an Athenian galley; while Sophocles, but fifteen years of 
age, stood ready, should the gods grant his countrymen suc- 
cess, to celebrate the victory with the arts in which he ex- 
celled. 

The third of the illustrious tragic trio was carefully trained ; 
painting, rhetoric, and philosophy, besides the customary 
gymnastic exercises, engaged his attention ; and he had not 
attained his eighteenth year when he finished his first drama. 
Not, however, until 441 B.C. did he, by winning the tragic 
prize, verify a prediction made before his birth that he would 
be crowned with sacred chaplets. 

His reputation was now secure ; and though he was ex- 
posed to bitter partisan attacks, his plays became widely 
popular. The philosopher Socrates always went to see them 
performed, and is even suspected of having had a hand in 
their composition. So great was the estimation in which 
they were held at Syracuse, that, after the surrender of the 
Athenian armies which had attempted the reduction of that 
city (413 B.C.), such of the soldiers as could teach their 
captors verses of Euripides were exempted from the cruel- 
ties inflicted on their fellows, and sent home to thank the 
author for their liberty. Athens itself is said to have been 
saved nine years later, when the Spartan general Lysander 
was minded to lay it in ashes, by the singing of a chorus 
of Euripides at the triumphal banquet ; who could raise his 


208 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


hand against the city of one that had discoursed poetry so 
sweet ? 

Like his brother tragedians, Euripides drew his subjects 
from the mythical history of his country. His plays num- 
bered seventy-five, some say ninety-two ; and the best of 
them rank with the best pieces on the roll of dramatic 
literature. He composed slowly and with care. On one 
occasion, it is related, when he had completed only four 
verses in three days, Euripides was told by a poetaster that 
in the same time he had produced a hundred. “And yours,” 
replied the great man, “ will live for three days ; mine, for- 
ever.” 

Euripides spent the last two years of his life at the Mace- 
donian court, then the abode of many illustrious men. He 
went there in search of rest, but found that he had only ex- 
changed persecution at home for jealousy abroad. The 
honors heaped upon him by the Macedonian prince, together 
with his own superior genius, raised him up enemies. In 
the king’s savage hounds, if we may credit the legend, they 
saw the means of removing an obnoxious rival ; and while 
Euripides was walking in his patron’s garden, he was at- 
tacked and fatally mangled by the fierce brutes (406 B.C.). 

Athens felt the loss, and went into mourning at news of 
his death ; vainly she supplicated the Macedonian king for 
his ashes. They were magnificently interred at Pella ; while 
his country was forced to remain content with a statue, and 
a cenotaph on which was inscribed, “All Greece is the 
monument of Euripides.” His verses, as he predicted, were 
immortal ; admiration of them led an epigrammatist to write : 

“ If it be true that in the grave the dead 
Have sense and knowledge, as some men have said, 

I’d hang myself to see Euripides.” 

With Euripides, the glory of the Athenian stage descended 


POETRY OF EURIPIDES. * 


209 


into the tomb ; and Tragedy found no one worthy to fill his 
place till Shakespeare’s day. 

Style of Euripides. — Sophocles once remarked that he 
represented men as they ought to be, Euripides as they are. 
This holding of the mirror up to nature was what Athenian 
taste began to demand; Euripides had the tact to see what 
was wanted, and the genius to make the innovation success- 
fully. His heroes and heroines talked and acted like men 
and women of the day; hence he has been accused of de- 
grading his art by introducing the commonplace into his 
dramas, of lowering Greek tragedy to the level of every-day 
life. 

A more serious charge also was laid at his door — that of 
impiety. Euripides rejected the faith oi nis fathers; we 
need not, therefore, look in his plays for the religious fervor 
of ^schylus, or even for the high moral tone of Sophocles. 
In one of his lines the doctrine of mental reservation ap- 
pears, 

“ My tongue took an oath, but my mind is unsworn ” — 

a sentiment which led to his prosecution for justifying per- 
jury. 

While Euripides was inferior to ^schylus in majesty, to 
Sophocles in symmetry and finish, he surpassed both in de- 
lineating character, and particularly in representing the hu- 
man passions. He was the most pathetic of the three, and 
in the portraiture of woman stands second to no poet, an- 
cient or modern. His heroines are his master - figures. 
Traces of art are sometimes apparent in his writings, and 
occasionally he verges on the sensational. 

The Mede'a is the d'xuvre of this author. Its plot 
is derived from the story of Medea, a Colchian princess pro- 
ficient in sorcery. She won the love of the Greek prince 

Jason, who came to Colchis in the ship Argo to obtain pos- 

I 2 


210 


* GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


session of the Golden Fleece, helped him to secure the object 
of his search, and eloped with him to Greece. But when 
Jason beheld the fair Glaucb, daughter of the King of Cor- 
inth, he resolved to thrust aside Medea in favor of his new 
love, forgetful of the dark power of the enchantress. 

The opening scene is laid at Corinth, after the nuptials of 
Jason and Glauce. The infidelity of her husband has trans- 
formed Medea into a tigress, whose conflicting passions the 
poet touches with consummate skill — the anger of the dis- 
honored wife, the love of the tender mother, the steeling of 
the woman’s heart against its deep affection, the all-absorbing 
thirst for vengeance. 

The play ends with Medea’s terrible revenge. Banished 
by the king from Corinth, she begs for one day of prepara- 
tion, in which she sends to the bride a costly robe and golden 
wreath poisoned by her fell arts. The unsuspecting Glauce 
smilingly arrays herself in these presents ; but her smiles 
give place to shrieks of agony as the enchanted garments 
burn into her flesh and the chaplet blazes in her hair. Her 
father tries to save her, and perishes in her flaming embrace. 
Medea completes her work by the murder of her two chil- 
dren — Jason’s sons — and after jeering at her husband’s grief 
disappears with the corpses in a chariot whirled through the 
air by dragons. 

One of the most affecting passages in Euripides is found in 

MEDEA’S LAST WORDS TO HER SONS. 

O children, children ! you have still a city, 

A home, where, lost to me and all my woe. 

You will live out yonr lives without a mother ! 

But I — lo ! I am for another land. 

Leaving the joy of yon: to see you happy. 

To deck your marriage-bed, to greet your bride. 

To light your wedding-torch, shall not be mine! 

O me ! thrice wretched in my own self-will ! 

In vain then, dear my children ! did I rear you j 
In vain I travailed, and with wearing sorrow 


EXTRACT FROM EURIPIDES. 


211 


Bore bitter aiigiiisb in the hour of childbirth ! 

Yea, of a sooth, I had great hope of you. 

That you should cherish luy old age, and deck 
My corpse with loviug bauds, aud make me blessed 
’Mid women iu my death. But now, ah me ! 

Hath perished that sweet dream. For long without you 
I shall drag out a dreary doleful age. 

And you shall never see your mother more 
With your dear eyes : for all your life is changed. 

Woe! woe! 

Why gaze you at me with your eyes, my children ? 

Why smile your last sweet smile ? Ah me ! ah me! 

What shall I do ? My heart dissolves within me, 
Friends, when 1 see the glad eyes of my sons! 

I cannot. No : my will that was so steady. 

Farewell to it. They too shall go with me : 

Why should I wound their sire with what wounds them, 
Heaping tenfold his woes on my own head ? 

No, no, I shall not. Perish my proud will. 

Yet whence this weakness ? Do I wish to reap 
The scorn that springs from enemies unpunished? 

Dare it I must. What craven fool am I, 

To let soft thoughts flow trickling from ray soul ! 

Go, boys, into the house : aud he who may not 
Be present at my solemn sacrifice — 

Let him see to ik Mv hand shall not falter. 

Ah ! ah !* 

Nay, do not, O my heart! do not this thing! 

Sufler them, O poor fool ; yea, spare thy children! 

There in thy exile they will gladden thee. 

Not so : by all the plagues of nethermost hell 
It shall not be that I, that I should suffer 
My foes to triumph and insult my sous! 

Die must they : this must be, aud since it must, 

I, I myself will slay them, I who bore them. 

So is it fixed, and there is no escape. 

Even as I speak, the crown is on her head, 

The bride is dying in her robes, I know it. 

But since this path most piteous I tread. 

Sending them forth on paths more piteous far, 

I will embrace my children. O my sons ! 

Give, giv'e your mother your dear hands to kiss, 

O dearest hands, and mouths most dear to nie. 

And forms and noble faces of my sons! 

Be happy even there : what here was yours, 

Your father robs you of, O delicate scent ! 

O tender touch and sweet breath of my boys ! 


212 


GRECIAN LITEKATUKE. 


Go, go, go — leave me ! Lo, I cannot bear 
To look on you : my woes have overwhelmed me.” 

Symonds. 


EXTANT PLAYS OF EURIPIDES. 


Alcestis, first represented 438 B.C. 

Medea, “ 

431 

ii 

Hippol'ytus, “ 

428 

U 

Hecuba, “ 

423 

a 

Heracli'd^ “ 

421 

u 

The Suppliants. 




Ion. 

The Raging Hercules. 
Andromache. 

The Trojan Women, 415 B.C. : pa- 
thetic by reason of the plaints of the 
captive women. 


Electra, first represented 413 B.C. 

Helen, “ 412 « 

I IphigenTa at Tauris. 

Orestes, 408 B.C. : demoralizing in its 
portraiture of crime. 

The Phoenician Women. 

The Female Bacchanalians: pro- 
duced at the Macedonian court. 

Iphigenia at Aulis : not acted till 
after the author’s death. 

Cyclops: a satyric drama (chorus of 
satyrs). 


Lost Tragedies. — Dramatic literature has sustained an ir- 
reparable loss, not only in the missing plays of the three 
great masters, but also in those numberless works of their 
contemporaries and occasionally successful competitors now 
buried in oblivion. From the allusions of two or three Greek 
authors, a few meagre particulars may be gleaned, now of 
one, now of another — but they only serve to make us more 
painfully conscious of our loss. 

Greek Comedy. — Comedy was older than tragedy in Greece. 
Thirty years before the time of Thespis, Susa'rion of Meg'ara, 
in his burlesque exhibitions, improved somewhat on the ex- 
tempore jests and village-songs of the Bacchic revellers, and 
hence has been called the inventor of comedy. Susarion 
was no great lover of the fair sex, if we may judge by an un- 
gallant sentiment of his which has been preserved : “ Woman 
is a curse, but we cannot conduct our household affairs with- 
out this curse ; therefore to marry is an evil, and not to marry 
is an evil.” Perhaps he had taken to wife a Xantippe. 

The poet Epicharmus, also of Megara, but the Sicilian city 
of that name, first committed his effusions to writing; he was 


GREEK COMEDY. 


213 


the author of thirty-five comedies, some of them on subjects 
not mythological. 

The development of comedy, however, was interrupted. 
The Tragic Muse enforced her claims at the expense of her 
elder sister, and the latter was for a season neglected. But 
the flourishing era of republican Athens, when the poet was 
free to lash whom he chose, saw comedy restored to the favor 
of the satire -loving people. It may be said to have been 
perfected by Aristophanes. He not only ridiculed the follies 
and vices of the day, laid bare family secrets on the stage, 
and edified his audiences by caricaturing the rich and great 
with masks and costumes which reproduced their peculiari- 
ties, but fearlessly assailed the government. When all others 
shrunk from playing so dangerous a role, he himself per- 
formed the part of the insolent demagogue Cleon (originally 
a leather-dresser), whom he mercilessly “cut into sandal- 
strips ” in his “ Knights.” 

Even the gods were not slighted by the comic poets. The 
gourmand Hercules devours as fast as the cook can prepare 
victuals ; Prometheus is protected from the elements by an 
umbrella ; Bacchus swaggers as a fop and coward. Comedy 
in the hands of Aristophanes and his contemporaries was to 
the Athenians what our press is to us, but went still further. 
Always personal and sometimes scurrilous in its attacks, too 
often coarse and licentious in its tone, it yet doubtless ac- 
complished much good in restraining political ambition, 
checking public corruption, and modifying the prevailing 
faults of society. 

Aristophanes. — The oldest comedies extant are those of 
Aristophanes, a citizen of Athens by birth or adoption, born 
about the middle of the fifth century B.C. If he was an 
adopted son, Athens had good reason to be proud of her pro- 
tegd. .His society was sought by the learned and great. He 
became the idol of the people, who fined such as brought libel- 


214 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


suits against him, and voted him an olive crown for exposing 
the misconduct of their rulers. 

Nor was his fame confined to Athens. All Greece, and 
Sicily too, laughed at his humorous sallies. The Persian king 
enjoyed his pungent satires, and regarded him as such a pow- 
er in Greece that when Spartan ambassadors sought an alli- 
ance with Persia against their Athenian rivals, the king asked 
on which side the comic poet was arrayed ; for, said he, “the 
party whose cause AHstophanes espouses will certainly win.” 

Aristophanes was loyal to the true interests of his country, 
and declined the flattering invitations of Dionysius to dwell 
in ease at Syracuse with the luminaries of his age. He longed 
for the glorious Athens of the past, and attacked whatever 
conflicted with his conservative ideas. None escaped his 
well-aimed shafts. He was specially severe on the Sophists, 
a new class of teachers at Athens, whose forte lay in chopping 
logic and splitting hairs, and who taught the tricks of rhetoric 
rather than practical morality. In his “ Clouds ” he derides 
their sharp practices and unsound system of education, striking 
them over the head of Socrates, the exponent of true philoso- 
phy, whose life was devoted to combating the false teachings 
of these very pretenders. 

That Socrates was merely the scape-goat is plain, for he and 
Aristophanes were intimate friends. When the play was first 
exhibited, the philosopher, who was in the audience, took it 
all in good part, and even rose that the people might compare 
him with the caricature presented, which exaggerated his ec- 
centricities of dress and figure — his pug-nose, thick lips, shabby 
garments, and absent-minded stare. The chorus of changing 
clouds symbolized the meretricious charms of sophistry. 

“ The Clouds” opens in the sleeping- apartment of Strep- 
si'ades, an Athenian citizen, his son Pheidippides occupying 
a pallet near him. The slaves of the household are abed in 
an adjoining room. Strepsiades, oppressed by debt incurred 


ARISTOPHANES. 


215 


through the extravagance of his “ precious son,” a fast young 
man addicted to fast horses, is disturbed by the recollection 
of numerous outstanding bills and notes about to mature. 
He wakes before daylight and calls a slave ; — 

“ Boy ! light a lamp ; 

Bring me my pocket-book, that I may see 

How my accoimts stand, and just cast them up. [^Slave oheys.'\ 

Let’s see now. First, here’s Prasias, fifty pounds. 

Now, what’s that for? When did I borrow that? 

Ah! when I bought that gray. O dear! O dear! 

I shall grow gray enough, if this goes on. 

Pheidippides [talking in his sleep']. — That’s not fair, 

Philo ! Keep your owu side of the course ! 

Strepsiades. — Ay, there he goes ! that’s what is ruining me ; 

He’s always racing, even in his dreams. 

Pheidippides [aivaking]. — Good heavens! my dear father, 

What makes you groan and toss so all night long? 

Strepsiades. — There’s a sherift' ’s officer at me — in the bedclothes. 
Pheidippides. — Lie quiet, sir, do ju ay, and let me sleep. 
Strepsiades. — Sleep, if you like ; but these debts, I can tell you. 
Will fall on your own head some day, young man. 

Heugh ! may those match-makers come to an evil end 
Who drew me into marrying your good mother! 

There I was, living a quiet life in the country, — 

Shaved once a week, maybe, wore my old clothes — 

Full of my sheep, and goats, and bees, and vineyards. 

And I must marry the fine niece of Megacles. 

Marry a fine town-belle, all airs and graces ! 

A pretty pair we were to come together — 

I smelling of the vineyard and sheep-shearing. 

She with her scents, and essences, and cosmetics. 

And all the deviltries of modern fashion. 

Not a bad housekeeper though, I will say that — 

Slav’^e [examining the lamp, which is going ou#].-^This lamp has got 
no oil in it. 

Strepsiades. — Deuce take you. 

Why did you light that thirsty beast of a lamp ? 

Come here, and you shall catch it. 

Slave. — Catch it — why ? 

Strepsiades [boxes his ears].— -For putting such a thick wick in, 
to be sure. 

Well, in due time, this boy of ours was born 
To me and my grand lady. First of all. 

We got to loggerheads about his name ; 

She would have something that had got a horse in it — 


216 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Xaiitliippus — or Charippiis — or Pliilippicles ; 

I was for Ills grandfather’s name — Pheidouides.* 

Well, for some time we squabbled ; then at last 
We came to a compromise upon Pheid-ippides. 

This boy — she’d take him in her lap and fondle him, 

And say, ^ Ah! when it grows up to be a man. 

It shall drive horses, like its uncle Megacles, 

And wear a red cloak, it shall.’ Then I would say, 

‘ He shall wear a good sheep-skin coat, like his own father, 

And drive his goats to market from the farm.’” 

Strepsiades finally bethinks him of a plan for paying his 
debts. He will have his son trained by the Sophists ; and 
when the creditors bring the case into court, Pheidippides 
shall plead his cause, and defeat them with fallacious argu- 
ments even in the face of a thousand witnesses. Father and 
son at once arise, dress, and walk out in the direction of 
the Sophists’ school. Arrived in front of it, Strepsiades re- 
marks : — 

That’s the great Thinking-school of onr new philosophers ; 

There live the men who teach that heaven around us 
Is a vast oven, and we the charcoal in it. 

And they teach too — for a consideration, mind — 

To plead a cause and win it, right or wrong. 

Pheidippides [carelessly}. — Who are these fellows? 
Strepsiades. — I don’t quite reraembei 

The name they call themselves, it’s such a long one ; 

Very hard thinkers — but they’re first-rate men. 

Pheidippides. — Faugh ! vulgar fellows — I know ’em. 

Dirty vagabonds. 

Like Socrates there and Chaerephon : a low set. 

Strepsiades. — P ray hold your tongue — don’t show your igno- 
rance. 

But, if you care at all for your old father. 

Be one of them ; now do, and cut the turf. 

Pheidippides. — Not I, by Bacchus! not if yon would give me 
That team of Arabs which Leogoras drives. 

Strepsiades. — Do, my dear boy, I beg you — go and be taught. 
Pheidippides.— What shall I learn there ? 

Strepsiades. — Learn ? Why, they do say 
That these men have the secret of both Arguments, 

The honest Argument (if there be such a thing) and the other; 


* Hippos means a horse in Greek ; pheidon, economical. 


ARISTOPHANES. 


217 


Now this last — this false Argument, you understand — 

Will make the veriest rascal win his cause. 

So if you’ll go and learn for ns this glorious art, 

The debts I owe for you will all be cleared j 
For I shan’t pay a single man a farthing. 

Pheidippides. — No — I can’t do it. Studying hard, you see, 
Spoils the complexion. How could I show my face 
Among the knights, looking a beast, like those fellows ? 

Strepsiades. — Then, sir, henceforth I swear, so help me Ceres, 

I won’t maintain you — you, nor your bays, nor your chestnuts. 

Go to the dogs — or anywhere — out of my house !” 

Failing to induce his son to enter the Thinking-school, 
Strepsiades resolves himself to master the fashionable Argu- 
ment that “ pays no bills he has an interview with Socrates, 
and is introduced to the Clouds, the new goddesses of this 
misty philosophy. 

One of the most beautiful passages of the play — having the 
ring of the true metal — is the chorus of Clouds responding to 
the call of Socrates — first, behind the scenes, in the distance : 
then nearer ; then rising from the lips of twenty-four gauze- 
clad nymphs, who descend upon the stage as personifications 
of the ethereal deities. 

Chorus of Clouds (in the distance). 

‘‘ Eternal clouds ! 

Rise we to mortal view. 

Embodied in bright shapes of dewy sheen. 

Leaving the depths serene 
Where our loud-sounding Father Ocean dwells. 

For the wood-crowned summits of the hills : 

Thence shall our glance command 
The beetling crags which sentinel the land, 

The teeming earth. 

The crops we bring to birth ; 

Thence shall we hear 

The music of the ever-flowing streams, 

The low deep thunders of the booming sea. 

Lo, the bright Eye of Day unwearied beams ! 

Shedding our veil of storms 
From our immortal forms, 

We scan with keen-eyed gaze this nether sphere.” 


218 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Chorus of Clouds {nearer). 

“ Sisters who bring the showers, 

Let us arise and greet 

This glorious laud, for Pallas’ dwelling meet. 

Rich in brave men, beloved of Cecrops old j 
Where Faith and Reverence reign. 

Where comes no foot profane. 

When for the mystic rites the Holy Doors unfold. 

There gifts are duly paid 
To the great gods, and pious prayers are said ; 

Tall temples rise, and statues heavenly fair. 

There at each holy tide. 

With coronals and song, 

The glad processions to the altars throng ; 

There in the jocund spring, 

Great Bacchus, festive king. 

With dance and tuneful flute his Chorus leads along.% 

W. L. Collins. 

But though the Clouds assist Socrates in teaching Strepsia* 
des, the pupil proves an utter dunce. Finally, in a moment 
of impatience, Socrates kicks him out of the school. 

At last Pheidippides is prevailed upon to study with the 
Sophists. He proves an apt scholar, rapidly developing into 
an unprincipled scamp. When his education as a sharper is 
completed, he brings to bear his specious arguments against 
the creditors, and cheats them out of their dues. So far, so 
good ; but his notions of filial duty have also been greatly 
modified by the instructions of Socrates. A quarrel arising 
in the family, he hesitates not to fall upon his father with a 
cudgel, and threatens to do the same by his mother if she 
provokes him. 

With a curse upon Socrates, the outraged old gentleman 
calls his slaves, hurries to the Thinking-school, and sets fire 
to the building. Thus the play ends. 

Beneath the pleasantry of Aristophanes is a substratum of 
solid sense ; as is apparent in “ the Birds,” an ingenious play 
in which the woodland songsters take characters. It was pro- 


ARISTOPHANES. 


219 


duced at a time when the Athenians, puffed up with vanity, 
confidently looked for the reduction of Sicily and the domin- 
ion of Greece. Aristophanes alone, at this critical period, 
ventured to raise the note of warning, and satirize their fool- 
ish ambition. The choruses in this drama ring with the sweet 
music of the wild woods ; they were rendered by twenty-four 
performers plumed so as to represent as many different kinds 
of birds. The Hoopoe thus calls his fellows to a mass-meet- 
ing;— 

‘‘ Hoop ! hoop ! 

Come in a troop. 

Come at a call 
One and all, 

Birds of a feather, 

All together. 

Birds of an humble gentle bill 
Smooth and shrill, 

Dieted on seeds and grain, 

Rioting on the furrowed plain, 

Pecking, hopping, 

Picking, popping. 

Among the barley newly sown. 

Birds of bolder, louder tone. 

Lodging in the shrubs and bushes. 

Mavises and Thrushes. 

On the summer berries browsing. 

On the garden fruits carousing, 

All the grubs and vermin smouzing. 

You that in an humbler station. 

With an active occupation. 

Haunt the lowly watery mead. 

Warring against the native breed. 

The gnats and flies, your enemies j 
In the level marshy plain 
Of Marathon pursued and slain. 

You that in a squadron driving 
From the seas are seen arriving. 

With the Cormorants and Mews, 

Haste to land and hear the news! 

All the feathered airy nation. 

Birds of every size and station. 

Are convened in convocation. 


220 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


For an envoy, queer and shrewa, 

Means to address tlie multitude, 

And submit to their decision 
A surprising proposition, 

For the welfare of the state. 

Come in a flurry. 

With a hurry, scurry. 

Hurry to the meetiug and attend to the debate.” 

Frere. 

Style of Aristophanes. — In weighing the merits of Aris- 
tophanes, it must be remembered that many of his peculiar 
beauties cannot be translated, and that we lose his local hits 
from our inability to see things from an Athenian standpoint. 
He is often indelicate in his allusions ; he is as ready with 
town slang and the cant of the shop as with the most elegant 
phrase. But Attic salt seasons the whole, and none ever han- 
dled the versatile Greek tongue more deftly. In his command 
of language, he is equalled only by Plato, who felt the comic 
poet’s power when he said that in the soul of Aristophanes 
the Graces sought an imperishable shrine. Amid all his 
humor and buffoonery sparkles genius of the highest order. 
His aim seems to have been to elevate his art. Some of the 
improvements he claimed to have introduced, are thus set 
forth in an address which he puts into the mouth of the 
leader of the chorus in his “ Peace — 

“ It was he that indignantly swept froui the stage the paltry ignoble 
device 

Of a Hercules needy and seedy and greedy, a vagabond sturdy and 
stout. 

Now baking his bread, now swindling instead, now beaten and 
battered about. 

And freedom he gave to the lacrimose slave who was wont with a 
howl to rush in. 

And all for the sake of a joke which they make on the wounds 
which disfigure his skin. 

Such vulgar contemptible lumber at once he bade from the drama 
depart. 

And then, like an edifice stately and grand, he raised and ennobled 
the art.” . Thorold Rogers. 


COMEDIES OF ARISTOPHANES. 


221 


Aristophanes outlived the license of the old comedy, which 
died with liberty. When in 404 B.C. the popular government 
was overthrown, and Thirty Tyrants, supported by Sparta, 
lorded it over Athens, a statute was passed making personal 
attacks on the stage capital offences ; an actor who defied the 
law was actually starved to death. Thenceforth the comic 
poet dared not individualize the object of his satire ; he tilted 
against vice and folly in general, or thrust at his intended 
victims indirectly under assumed names. 

Aristophanes died about 380 B.C. No other comic poet 
could vie with him during his lifetime ; none worthy to be his 
successor arose after his death, for “ Nature broke the mould 
in which he was cast.” Of fifty-four comedies from his pen, 
eleven remain entire. 


The Acharnians 425 B.C. 

The Knights 424 “ 

The Clouds 423 “ 

The Wasps 422 “ 


The persons constituting the 
chorus were girt in tightly 
about the waist, to make 
them as wasp-like as possi- 
ble in appearance ; skewers 
did service as stings. 


Peace 

421 

U 

The Birds 

414 

U 

Lysistrata 

411 

u 

The Women celebrating 



THE Feast of Ceres . . 

411 

ii 

Ridicule of Euripides is the 



staple of this play. 




The Frogs 405 B.C. 

Here again Euripides is the 
butt. The chorus was made 
up to represent frogs, whose 
croakings were imitated. 

The Women met in Assem- 
bly 392 “ 

Certain strong-minded fe- 
male communists, advocates 
of women’s rights, seize on 
the government and under- 
take the reformation of pub- 
lic abuses. This play con- 
tains the longest word known, 
made up of 77 syllables and 
169 letters. 

Plutus 388 “ 


HISTORY. 


During this halcyon age of Greek poetry, prose also was 
cultivated, and in the century following the Persian Wars it 
was brought to maturity. After the victories that secured her 
freedom, Greece felt the need of a national historian to record 


222 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


the story of her struggles and triumphs. The earliest narra- 
tors, as has been shown, confined themselves to mythology 
and tradition : the times now demanded an artist who could 
paint with faithful pencil on living canvas those scenes that 
were the glory of Hellas — and in Herodotus of Halicarnas- 
sus that artist appeared. 

Herodotus (born 484 B.C.). — Halicarnassus was the capital 
of a Dorian confederacy of states in southern Asia Minor. 
Its queen Artemisia supported Xerxes in his quarrel with 
Greece ; and although the Athenians, provoked that a woman 
should take the field against them, offered an immense reward 
for her capture, she escaped the perils of war, and carried 
her kingdom safely through the political troubles of the time. 

The parents of Herodotus were persons of rank and prop- 
erty. His writings prove him to have been well read in the 
literature of his country. Though not an Ionian born, he 
adopted the Ionic dialect — the dress in which Greek prose 
first appeared. 

Herodotus spent the best twenty years of his life in travel- 
ling over the greater part of the known world, studying the 
history, geography, and customs of the countries he visited. 
Thebes and Memphis, Tyre and Jerusalem, Babylon and Ec- 
bat ana— with all he made personal acquaintance, extending 
his tour as far west as the Greek settlements in Italy, and as 
far south as the first cataract of the Nile. 

The marvellousness of the stories he collected brought down 
upon Herodotus the ridicule of his fellow-citizens; so quitting 
Halicarnassus when about thirty-seven years of age, he settled 
at Athens. Here, it is related, he read his history, still in the 
rough, to the admiring people, who voted him a handsome 
reward. Here also he seems to have become intimate with 
Sophocles and his great contemporaries ; and here, perhaps, 
his ambition was kindled to add another star to the galaxy 
that made Athens the glory of the world. 


HERODOTUS. 


223 


Not long, however, did Herodotus remain at the capital. 
As one of a band of colonists sent out by Pericles in 443 B.C., 
he crossed to Italy, and aided in founding the town of Thurii, 
near the ruins of Syb aris (see Map, p. 304). At Thurii he 
spent his last years in revising, enlarging, and polishing his 
history; yet we are not to believe that he ceased to indulge 
his passion for travelling when Sicily and southern Italy lay 
so invitingly before him. He died at the age of sixty, leav- 
ing the great work of his life unfinished. 

The main subject of our author’s work is the Graeco-Persian 
War and the triumph of his country. His narrative is from 
time to time relieved by delightful episodes. Indeed, we owe 
to him not a few of those romantic tales that invest ancient 
history with its peculiar charm ; while modern research has 
verified many of the wonder-stories that provoked the derision 
of his countrymen. Nor do his digressions mar the unity of 
his history, which is planned and developed as skilfully as a 
drama of Sophocles. 

The style of Herodotus is poetical, clear, familiar, fascinat- 
ing, and marked by a pleasing variety. “ His animation,” says 
Macaulay, “his simple-hearted tenderness, his wonderful talent 
for description and dialogue, and the pure sweet flow of his 
language, place him at the head of narrators.” His history is 
the first work of its kind that has descended to us entire. 
It is divided into nine books, said to have been read by the 
author at the Olympic Games, and there to have received the 
names of the Nine Muses, which they still bear.* Certainly 
no names could have been more appropriately connected 
with a work that has entitled its author to be called through 
all time “ the Father of History.” — Extracts follow : — 


An epigram of later date thus accounted for their names: — 

“ The Muses to Herodotus one day came, nine of them, and dined ; 
And in return, their host to pay, left each a book behind.” 


224 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


XERXES AND THE PILOT. 

“ It is said that Xerxes, leaving Atlieus, came to a city called Eion, 
on the hanks of the Stry'mon. Hence he i)roceeded no farther by 
land, but, intrusting the conduct of his forces to Hydarnes, with or- 
ders to march them to the Hellespont, he went on board a Phoenician 
vessel to cross over into Asia. After he had embarked, a heavy and 
tempestuous wind set in from the lake ; which, on account of the great 
number of Persians on board, attendant upon Xerxes, made the situ- 
ation of the vessel extremely dangerous. The king, in a transport of 
terror, inquired aloud of the pilot if he thought they were safe. 

‘ By no means,’ was the answer, ‘ unless we could be rid of some of 
this multitude.’ 

Upon this Xerxes exclaimed, ‘ Persians, let me now see which of 
you loves his prince ; my safety, it seems, depends on you.’ 

As soon as he had spoken, they first bowed themselves before him, 
and then leaped into the sea. The vessel being thus lightened, 
Xerxes was safely landed in Asia. As soon as he got on shore, he re- 
warded the pilot with a golden crown for preserving the life of the 
king ; but, as he had caused so many Persians to perish, he cut off 
his head.” — Beloe. 


ANECDOTE OF QUEEN NITOCRIS. 

“ Nitocris had her tomb constructed in the upper part of one of the 
principal gateways of the city, high above the heads of the passers- 
by, with this inscription cut upon it: — ‘If there be one among my 
successors on the throne of Babylon who is in want of treasure, let 
him o|>en my tomb, and take as much. as he chooses; not, however, 
unless he be truly in want, for it will not be h»r his good.’ 

This tomb continued untouched until Darius came to the kingdom. 
To him it seemed a monstrous thing that he should be unable to use 
one of the gates of the town, and that a sum of money should be lying 
idle, and moreover inviting his grasp, and he not seize upon it. Now 
he could not use the gate, because, as he drove through, the dead 
body would have been over his head. 

Accordingly, he opened the tomb ; but, instead of money, found 
only the dead body, and a writing which said : — ‘ Hadst thou not 
been insatiate of pelf, ajid careless how thou gottest it, thou wouldst 
not have broken open the sepulchres of the dead.’ ” 


CUSTOMS OF THE BABYLONIANS. 

“ Of their customs, whereof I shall now proceed to give an account, 
the following is in my judgment the wisest. Once a year, in each 
village, the maidens of age to marry were collected all together into 


EXTRACT FROM HERODOTUS. 


225 


one place; while the men stood roniul them in a circle. Then a her- 
ald called lip the damsels one by one, and offered them for sale. He 
began with the most beautiful. When she was sold for no small sum 
of money, he offered for sale the one who came next to her in beauty. 
All of them were sold to be wives. 

The richest of the Babylonians who wished to wed, bid against 
each other for the loveliest maidens; while the humbler wife-seek- 
ers, who were indifferent about beauty, took the more homely dam- 
sels with marriage- portions. For the custom was that when the 
herald had gone through the whole number of the beautiful damsels, 
he should then call up the ugliest — a cripple, if there chanced to be 
one — and offer her to the men, asking who would agree to take her 
with the smallest marriage-portion. And the man who offered to 
take the smallest sum, had her assigned to him. The marriage-por- 
tions were furnished by the money paid for the beautiful damsels, 
and thus the fairer maidens portioned out the uglier. 

No one was allowed to give his daughter in marriage to the man 
of his choice, nor might any one carry away the damsel whom he 
had purchased without finding bail really and truly to make her his 
wife. All who liked might come, even from distant villages, and 
bid for the women. 

The Babylonians have no physicians; but when a man is ill, they 
lay him in the public square, and the passers-by come up to him, and 
if they have ever had his disease themselves or have known any one 
who has suffered from it, they give him advice, recommending him 
to do whatever they found good in their own case, or in the case 
known to them. And no one is allowed to pass the sick man in 
silence without asking him what his ailment is.’’ — Rawlinson. 

Thucydides, on whom the mantle of Herodotus descended, 
was born in a village of Attica about 471 B.C. We may 
believe that he received a polite education, and became pro- 
ficient in military science at an early age. It was in the 
prime of manhood, if the oft-repeated story is to be credited, 
that the history of Herodotus, read before an assembled 
throng, brought tears to his eyes and fired him with a desire 
to emulate its distinguished author. Greece was then on the 
eve of the Peloponnesian War, in which the rival states Ath- 
ens and Sparta figured as chief actors. Thucydides antici- 
pated the impending storm, and discerned his opportunity; 
this war should be his subject, and even before it began he 
was busy collecting preliminary information. 

K 


226 


GRECIAX LITERATURE. 


Nor did he serve his country merely in the capacity of his- 
torian. He engaged actively in the contest, and received as 
his reward the command of an Athenian squadron. But he 
committed an unpardonable sin by failing to save a town, 
which surrendered to the Spartans before he could arrive 
with assistance. Instigated by Cleon, his countrymen de- 
prived him of his position and cast him forth an exile. 

Thucydides retired to Thrace, where he had a valuable in- 
terest in certain gold-mines, and there devoted himself to the 
preparation of his history, narrowly watching the progress of 
events and gathering intelligence with the utmost care. His 
exile of twenty years was indeed “ the Muses’ blessing it 
enabled him to pursue his studies without interruption. Long 
after his death, the plane-tree in whose shadow he was accus- 
tomed to compose, was pointed out to travellers. 

Thucydides traced the Peloponnesian War to the middle 
of its twenty-first year (41 1 B.C.), leaving it to be finished by 
another. Why he did not complete it himself, being in pos- 
session of the necessary materials, does not appear. After 
the Athenian power was broken by Sparta (404 B.C.), the 
decree of banishment was revoked ; but whether Thucydides 
ever returned to Athens is a matter of doubt. According to 
one account, he went back to fall the victim of a conspiracy ; 
from another we are led to infer that he died a natural death 
in Thrace about 391 B.C. 

The “History of the Peloponnesian War” is remarkable 
for its accuracy and impartiality. Truth was the great object 
of its author, who, dispassionate and unprejudiced, ignores 
the ingratitude of his country, betrays no resentment even 
when he speaks of Cleon, and does full justice to his Spartan 
foes. He intended his work to be an authority, “a possession 
for everlasting.” In it we find the first attempts to treat 
the philosophy of history, to trace events to their ultimate 
causes, and deduce from the past lessons for the future. His 


THUCYDIDES. 


227 


style is nervous, concise, stately, and even rises to the sub- 
lime ; but lacks harmony, and is sometimes obscure. About 
one fourth of his work is composed of speeches, which in- 
deed make an agreeable variety, but are often involved, and 
in parts all but unintelligible. Antithesis is a frequent figure. 

Despite its faults, the history of Thucydides has always 
been a favorite. Charles V. was never without a copy when 
on a campaign, and the philosopher Hobbes declared that 
he valued its eight books above all the rest of Greek histor- 
ical literature. The extract selected is a description of the 
plague which broke out at Athens in the year 430, while the 
Lacedaemonians were ravaging Attica, and which the histo- 
rian contracted himself, but fortunately survived. 

THE PLAGUE AT ATHENS. 

While the nature of this rlisteniper was such as to baffle all de- 
scription, and its attacks were almost too grievous for hninau nature 
to endure, it was still iu the following circumstance that its differ- 
ence from all ordinary disorders was most clearly shown. All the 
birds and beasts that prey upon humaji bodies either abstained from 
touching them (though there were many lying uubuiied), or died 
after tasting them. In proof of this, it was noticed that birds of 
this kind .actually disappeared; they were not about the bodies, or 
indeed to be seen at all. But of course the effects which I have 
mentioned could best be studied in a domestic animal like the dog. 

Meanwhile the town enjoyed an immunity from all the ordinary 
disorders ; or, if any case occurred, it ended in this. Some died of 
neglect, others in the midst of every attention. No remedy was 
found that could be used as a specific ; for what did good in one 
case, did harm in another. Strong and weak constitutions proved 
equally incapable of resistance, all alike being swept away, although 
dieted with the utmost precaution. 

By far the most terrible feature in the malady was the dejection 
which ensued when they felt themselves sickening; for the despair 
into which they instantly fell took aavay their j)ower of resistance, 
and left them a much easier prey to the disorder. Besides which, 
there was the awful spectacle of men dying like sheep, through 
having caught the infection in nursing each other. . This caused the 
greatest mortality. On the one hand, if they were afraid to visit, 
each other, they perished from neglect : indeed, many houses wei o 
emptied of their inmates for want of a nurse : on the other hand, if 
they ventured to do so, death was the consequence. 


228 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


This was esjiecially the case with such as made any pretensious 
to goodness: a sense of honor prevented them from sparing them- 
selves in their attendance at their friends’ houses, where even the 
members of the family were at last worn out by the moans of the 
dying, and succumbed to the force of the disaster. Yet it wuis with 
those who had recovered from the disease that the sick fouud most 
compassion. These knew what it was from experience, and had 
now no fear for themselves ; for the same man was never attacked 
a second time — never at least fatally. And such persons not only 
received the congratulations of others, but themselves also in the 
elation of the moment half entertained the vain hope that they 
were for the future safe from any di.sease whatever. 

An aggravation of the existing calamity was the influx from the 
country into the city, and this was especially felt by the new arri- 
vals. As there were no houses to receive them, they had to be 
lodged at the hot season of the year in stifling cabins, where the 
mortality raged without restraint; bodies lay one upon another iu 
the agonies of thirst, and half- dead creatures reeled about the 
streets and round all the fountains iu their longing for water. 
The sacred places, also, iu which they had quartered themselves, 
were full of corpses of persons that had died there. 

All the burial rites before in use were entirely upset, and they 
buried the bodies as best they could. Many from want of the 
proper appliances, through so many of their friends having died 
already, had recourse to the most shameless sepultures: sometimes 
getting the start of those who had raised a pile, they threw their 
own dead body upon the stranger’s pile and ignited it; sometimes 
they tossed the corpse, which they were carrxdng, on the top of an- 
other which was burning, and so went off. 

Nor was this the only form of lawless extravagance which owed 
its origin to the plague. Men now coolly ventured on what they had 
formerly done in a comer, and not just as they pleased, seeing the 
rapid transitions produced by persons in prosperity suddenly dying 
and those who before had nothing succeeding to their property. 
So they resolved to spend quickly and enjoy themselves, regarding 
their lives and riches as alike things of a day. Perseverance in 
what men called honor was popular with none, it was so uncertain 
whether they would be spared to attain the object ; but present en- 
joyment, and all that contributed to it, was laid down as both hon- 
orable and useful. Fear of gods or law of man there was none to 
restrain them. As for the flrst, they judged it to be just the same 
whether they worshipped the gods or not, as they saw all alike per- 
ishing ; and for the last, no one expected to live to be brought to 
trial for his offences, but felt that a far severer sentence had been 
already passed upon them and hung even over their heads, and be- 
fore this fell it was only reasonable to enjoy life a little. 

Such was the nature of the calamity, and heavily did it weigh on 
the Athenians; death raging xvithin the city and devastation with- 


XENOPHOX. 


229 


out. Among otlier things which they remembered iu their distress 
was, very naturally, the following verse, which the old men said had 
long ago been uttered : 

‘A Dorian war shall come, and with it death.’ ” 

Richard Crawley. 

• 

Xenophon, who in his “Hellenica” continued the story of 
the Peloponnesian War left unfinished by Thucydides, and 
carried the history of Greece as far as the battle of Mantine'a, 
362 B.C., was born at Athens shortly after the middle of the 
fifth century. Of his early life we know nothing, save that he 
was the friend and pupil of Socrates ; who, it is related, pre- 
possessed with his intelligent countenance, once stopped him 
in a narrow way and demanded where men were made good 
and honest. Confused by the unexpected inquiry from so 
great a teacher, the boy hesitated ; whereupon, the philoso- 
pher exclaimed, “ Follow me and learn.” Xenophon obeyed, 
and became a faithful student of his master’s moral and phil- 
osophical doctrines. Together they braved the perils of the 
Peloponnesian War ; and in the battle of De'lium (424 B.C.), 
where the flower of Athens’ chivalry fell, Xenophon’s life is 
said to have been saved by Socrates. 

At the solicitation of his friend, Proxenus the Boeotian, 
Xenophon joined as a volunteer the famous Expedition of 
the Ten Thousand, made in the interest of Cyrus the Young- 
er against his elder brother Artaxerxes, who occupied the Per- 
sian throne. Feeling the necessity of securing soldiers su- 
perior in bravery and discipline to the barbarian hordes 
through which he must cut his way to the capital, Cyrus 
supported the Spartans in the Peloponnesian War, in order 
to secure their aid in dethroning Artaxerxes. Accordingly, at 
his summons, about 10,000 Spartans and other Greeks, de- 
ceived at first as to the real object of the campaign, flocked 
to his standard, and in the spring of 401 B.C., with 100,000 
Eastern troops, entered the confines of the Persian Empire. 


230 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


On the plain of Cunaxa, ninety miles from Babylon, the 
decisive battle took place between the brothers, Artaxerxes 
having at his back an army of nearly a million men. Supe- 
rior numbers, however, availed little against the superior dis- 
cipline of the Greeks, who quickly routed the wing opposed 
to them ; but Cyrus, already hailed as king, imprudently 
spurred into the disordered ranks of the foe, and was struck 
down while engaged in a furious hand-to-hand conflict with 
Artaxerxes. 

The fall of Cyrus was the signal for his Asiatic troops to 
disperse, and the victors found themselves deserted in the 
heart of the enemy’s country, more than 1,200 miles from 
home. Their generals were soon after seized at a confer- 
ence and put to death. In this crisis, by the advice of Xen- 
ophon, inspired as he tells us by a dream, new leaders were 
chosen, he himself in the place of his friend Proxenus, one 
of the murdered chiefs. A retreat was determined upon ; 
and during fifteen months of indescribable hardships, he was 
the patient guide, the sympathetic but vigilant and prudent 
commander. At last, from a mountain height, the glittering 
Euxine broke upon the view of the van, a glad shout rent the 
air — “the Sea! the Sea!” — proclaiming that their sufferings 
were over, while officers and soldiers wept in each other’s 
arms. Here, in the neighborhood of Greek settlements, they 
were safe, and the march home was easy. The 8,600 sur- 
vivors owed their lives to Xenophon. 

This “ Retreat” of the Greeks is the subject of Xenophon’s 
graphic and interesting history in seven books, the “ Anaba- 
sis ” {march up, though most of the work is occupied with 
what happened on the march doivn). The chaste, simple 
style of the author, who throughout modestly speaks of him- 
self in the third person, recommends his pages to readers 
of every class. He writes to the point; there is no straining 
for effect. We extract the passage relating to 


EXTRACT FROAI XENOPHON'S ANABASIS. 


231 


XENOPHON’S DREAM. 

“After the generals were made prisoners, and such of the captains 
and soldiers as had accompanied them were put to death, the Greeks 
were in great perplexity, reflecting that they were not far from the 
king’s residence; that there were around them, on all sides, many 
hostile nations and cities ; that no one would any longer afford them 
opportunities of purchasing provisions ; that they were distant from 
Greece not less than ten thousand stadia ; that there was no one to 
guide them on the way ; that impassable rivers would intercept them 
in the midst of their course ; that the Babylonians who had gone up 
with Cyrus had deserted them ; and that they were left alone, having 
no cavalry to support them. 

Reflecting, I say, on these circumstances, and being disheartened 
at them, few tasted food that evening, few kindled tires; and many 
did not come to the place of arms during the night, but lay down to 
sleep where they severally happened to be, unable to sleep for sorrow 
and longing for tbeir country, their parents, their wives and children, 
whom they never expected to see again. In this state of mind they 
all went to their resting-places. 

When this perplexity occurred, Xenophon was distressed as well 
as the other Greeks, and unable to rest; but having at length got a 
little sleep, he had a dream, in which, in the midst of a thunder-storm, 
a bolt seemed to him to fall upon his father’s house, and the house in 
consequence became all in a blaze. Greatly frightened, he immedi- 
ately awoke, and considered his dream as in one respect favorable, 
inasmuch as, being in troubles and dangers, he seemed to behold a 
great light from Jupiter; but in another respect he was alarmed, be- 
cause the dream appeared to him to be from Jupiter, who was a king, 
and the tire to blaze all around him, lest he should be unable to es- 
cape from the king’s territories, but should be hemmed in on all sides 
by inextricable difficulties. 

What it betokens, however, to see such a dream, we may conjecture 
from the occurrences that happened after the dream. What imme- 
diately followed was this. As soon as he awoke, the thought that 
first occurred to him was, ‘Why do I lie heie ? The night is passing 
away. With daylight it is probable that the enemy will come upon 
ns; and, if we once fall into the hands of the king, what is there to 
prevent us from being put to death with ignominy, after witnessing 
the most grievous sutferings among our comrades, and enduring every 
severity of torture ourselves ? Yet no one concerts measures or takes 
thought for our defence, but we lie still, as if we were at liberty to 
enjoy repose. From what city, then, do I expect a leader to under- 
take our defence? What age am I waiting for, to come to myself? 
Assuredly I shall never be older, if I give mj^self up to the enemy 
to-day.’ After these reflections he arose, and called together, in the 
first place, the captains that were under Proxenus. 

When they were assembled, he said, ‘ For my part, captains, I can- 


232 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


not sleep, nor, I sbonlil think, can you ; nor can 1 lie still any longer, 
when I consider in what circumstances we are placed. For it is plain 
that the euemy did not openly manifest hostility tow'ard ns, until they 
thought that they had judiciously arranged their jdaus; hut on our 
side no one takes any thought how we may best maintain a contest 
with them. Yet if we prove remiss, and fall into the power of the 
king, what may we not expect to suffer from a man who cut oif the 
head and hand of his oavu brother by the same mother and father, 
even after he was dead, and fixed them upon a stake ? What may 
not we, I say, expect to suffer, who have no relative to take our part, 
and who have marched against him to make him a subject instead 
of a monarch, and to put him to death if it should lie in our power? 
Will he not proceed to every extremity, that by reducing us to the 
last degree of ignominious suffering, he may inspire all men with a 
dread of ever taking the field against him ? We must, therefore, try 
every expedient not to fall into his hands. 

For myself, 1 never ceased, while the truce lasted, to consider 
ourselves as objects of pity, and to regard the king and his i)eople as 
objects of envy ; as I contemplated how extensive and valuable a 
country they possessed, how great an abundance of provisions, how 
many slaves and cattle, and how vast a quantity of gold and raiment. 
But since they have put an end to peace, their own haughtiness and 
our mistrust seem likewise to be brought to an end ; for the advan- 
tages which I have mentioned lie now as prizes between us, for which- 
soever of us shall prove the better men. And the gods are the judges 
of the contest, Avho, as is just, will be on our side ; since the enemy 
have offended them by perjury, while we, though seeing many good 
things to tempt us, have resolutely abstained from all of them through 
regard to our oaths ; so that, as it seems to me, we may advance to 
the coTnbat with much greater confidence than they can feel. 

We have bodies, moreover, better able than theirs to endure cold 
and toil; and we have, with the help of the gods, more resolute 
minds; while the enemy, if the gods, as before, grant ns success, will 
be found more obnoxious to wounds and death tlian we are. But 
possibly others of you entertain the same thoughts ; let us not then, 
in the name of Heaven, wait for others to come and exhort us to noble 
deeds, but let ns be ourselves the first to excite others to exert their 
valor. Prove yourselves the bravest of the captains, and more worthy 
to lead than those who are now leaders. As for me, if you wish to 
take the start in the course, I am willing to follow you ; or, if you 
appoint me to be a leader, I shall not make my youth an excuse, 
but shall think myself sufficiently mature to defend myself against 
harm.’” — Watson. 


For his sympathy with Sparta, and possibly for sharing the 
opinions of his beloved teacher Socrates, Xenophon was ban- 
ished from Athens ; but he was recompensed by the Lacedae- 


XENOPHON. — CTESIAS. — THEOPOMPUS. 


233 


monians with a house and piece of land in E lis. Here, amid 
lovely meadows and woodlands, he built a temple to the god- 
dess Diana in fulfilment of a vow he had made when encircled 
by dangers in Asia. Here, free from the cares of public life, 
he passed many years, happy in the society of his wife, chil- 
dren, and friends, dividing his time among his farm, his hunt- 
ing-parks, and his study. He died at the age of ninety. — Of 
his two sons, one fell on the field of Mantinea, after dealing 
the great Epaminondas his death-blow'. 

Besides the “ Anabasis ” and “ blellenica,” Xenophon wTote 
the Cy'ropaedi a ” {education of Cyrus — the elder Cyrus, king 
of Persia), a semi-didactic, semi-historical fiction, illustrating 
a model system of education and setting forth his ideal of 
government — a perfect monarchy. He is also the author of 
several works written in defence of Socrates or as expositions 
of his philosophy, of which the “ Memorabilia ” {memoirs) is 
particularly interesting, teeming as it does with sayings and 
anecdotes of the sage. 

In addition to his merits as an historian, Xenophon may 
justly claim the distinction of having been the first essayist ; 
we have from his pen essays on the Policy of Lacedaemon, on 
the Chase, Horsemanship, and Cavalry Tactics, not to mention 
several political treatises ascribed to him. A creditable rep- 
resentative of elegant Attic prose, Xenophon has been called 
the Attic Muse. 

Ctesias, a Greek physician attached to the Persian court, 
who dressed the w^ounds of Artaxerxes after the battle of Cu- 
naxa, compiled a history of Persia in twenty-three books, a 
description of India, and a variety of other works. Of his 
writings, which were in the Ionic dialect, little has survived. 

Theopompus (probably 378-304 B.C.) is also worthy of 
mention as an historian. He wrote a History of Greece from 
41 1 to 394 B.C., and “ Philippica,” in fifty-eight books, in which 
he sketched the character of Philip of Macedon. Of the latter 

K 2 


234 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


work numerous fragments remain. Ancient critics give him 
credit for general accuracy, though he took rather too rose- 
colored views of his hero Philip as the promoter of Grecian 
civilization. 

PHILOSOPHY. 

The earliest philosophical investigations were made by 
lonians, and Thales of Miletus is recognized as the founder 
of Greek philosophy. To him and to Pythagoras the various 
systems may all be traced. 

The Ionic School of Thales, devoted to physical science, 
rapidly developed, theory after theory being brought forward 
to explain the universe and the nature of Deity. One philos- 
opher made the Supreme Being an all-pervading, divine air ; 
another, Heracli'tus “the Obscure,” represented God as a 
subtile flame, and reduced the universe to an eternal fire. 

A notable step in advance was taken by Anaxagoras (500- 
428 B.C.), who succeeded to the leadership of this school. 
The first to make the study of philosophy fashionable at 
Athens, he became the instructor of some of her great men, 
Socrates among the number. He represented God as a divine 
mind^ acting on the material world with intelligence and de- 
sign. Well did Aristotle say that Anaxagoras was like a sober 
man among stammering drunkards, when compared with ear- 
lier philosophers. As an astronomer, he anticipated some of 
the discoveries of more recent times ; he correctly explained 
eclipses, taught that the sun was a molten ball, that from it 
the moon borrowed her light, that the lunar surface was diver- 
sified with mountains and valleys, and that the earth itself 
had been the scene of terrible convulsions. 

The Italic School had meanwhile been founded by Pythag'- 
ORAS, of Samos, born about 540 B.C. He settled in Croto'na, 
a Greek town of southern Italy, and there imparted to his dis- 
ciples the philosophical principles which he had gathered in 
other lands, particularly Egypt. 


PYTHAGORAS. 


235 


Pythagoras modestly styled himself a lover of wisdom {phi- 
losopher), not a wise man {sophist). Among his doctrines were 
the mysterious theory that number is the first principle of all 
things, the transmigration of souls, and a system of future re- 
wards and punishments. He forestalled Copernicus in his 
discovery of the true theory of the solar system — that the 
sun, and not the earth, as was then believed, is its centre ; he 
taught that the moon was inhabited ; and described the heav- 
enly bodies as producing harmonious tones in their passage 
through ether, from which his followers were accustomed to 
say that to him the gods had revealed “ the music of the 
spheres.” 

With such perfect confidence did his disciples regard their 
master, who usually gave his instructions from behind a thick 
curtain, that when any one called their doctrines in ques- 
tion they deemed it sufficient to reply, “ He said so ” {ipse 
dixit). Indeed, they invested him with supernatural powers, 
nor, according to his early biographers, did he deny the 
soft impeachment. On one occasion, we are told, to con- 
vince his pupils that he was a god, he showed them his 
thigh, which was of gold, and declared that he had assumed 
the form of humanity only the more readily to impart his 
lessons to mankind. 

Pythagoras was the inventor of the monochord, a one- 
stringed instrument designed to measure musical intervals, — 
and also of the more useful, if humbler. Multiplication Table. 
He is the first who practised mesmerism ; at least so we may 
account for his subduing a fierce Daunian bear, and taming 
beasts and birds by gently passing his hands over their 
bodies. 

There are no genuine remnants of this author. The cele- 
brated “Golden Verses,” long attributed to him, there is 
reason for supposing to have been inspired by his teachings, 
but written by one of his pupils : — 


236 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


FROM THE GOLDEN VERSES. 

“ Ne’er suflEer sleep tbiue eyes to close 
Before tby mind hatb run 
O’er every act, and thought, and word. 

From dawn to set of sun ; 

For wrong take shame, hut grateful feel, 

If just thy course hath been ; 

Such effort, day by day renewed. 

Will ward thy soul from sin.” 

As the Ionics made physics everything, so the Pythago- 
reans regarded mathematical science as the sumi7iiim bonum. 
In their master’s eyes the world was “a living arithmetic,” 
and virtue a proportion of all the faculties of the soul. A 
mystical relation between mathematical and moral truths was 
a principle of his philosophy. 

Prominent among the followers of Pythagoras was Em- 
pedocles, of Agrigentum in Sicily (450 B.C.), who combined 
the previous theories of nature in his own, viz., that four ele- 
ments — earth, air, fire, and water — enter into the constitution 
of the universe, and that these are constantly animated by 
the two opposing forces of Love and Strife. A peculiar doc- 
trine of his was that like is perceived only by like ; thus our 
knowledge of other bodies is due to minute emanations from 
their substance which enter the pores and impress corre- 
sponding elements in our own frames. 

Empedocles is said to have arrogated to himself the impor- 
tance of a god, going about in a purple robe confined with a 
belt of gold, performing wonderful cures. According to an 
old legend, he sought to create the belief that he had been 
translated to heaven, by secretly throwing himself into the 
crater of Mt. Etna ; but the volcano, in a subsequent erup- 
tion, cast forth one of his brazen sandals and so exposed 
the fraud. He probably lost his life by accident while ex- 
amining the crater. 

From the Italic School sprung the sects known as Eleatic, 


THE ELEATIC PHILOSOPHY. 


23 V 


Epicurean, and Skeptic. The Eleatic School was founded 
by Xenoph'anes (600-500 B.C.), a contemporary of Pythag- 
oras, and derived its name from the town of E'lea in south- 
ern Italy. 

Xenophanes asserted the unity of the Deity. “There is 
one god,” he said, “among gods and men the greatest: 
unlike to mortals in outward shape, unlike in mind and 
thoughts.” This was truly a sublime stand to take in an age 
of polytheism ; he who feared not to face a superstitious peo- 
ple with such a doctrine, and ridicule even their divine Ho- 
mer for his degrading pictures of the deities, deserves to be 
ranked among the greatest philosophers of Greece. 

FRAGMENTS FROM XENOPHANES. 

“If sheep, and swine, and lions strong, and all the bovine crew. 
Could paint with cunning bands, and do what clever mortals do, 
Depend upon it, every pig with snout so broad and blunt. 

Would make a Jove that like himself would thunder with a grunt ; 
And every lion’s god would roar, and every bull’s would bellow. 
And every sheep’s would baa, and every beast his worshipped fellow 
Would find ill some immortal form, and naught exist divine 
But had the gait of lion, sheep, or ox, or grunting swine.” 


“ Homer and Hesiod, whom we own great doctors of theology. 

Said many things of blissful gods that cry for large apology — 
That they may cheat, and rail, and lie, and give the rein to passion, 
Which were a crime in men who tread the dust in mortal fashion.” 


“ All eyes, all ears, all thought, is God, the omnipresent soul ; 

And free from toil, by force of mind, he moves the mighty whole.” 

Blackie. 

The noble conception of Deity entertained by Xenophanes 
was soon perverted. We find his pupil Parmen'ides “ the 
Great” in the next century doing away with the personality 
of God, and confounding the divine nature with pure being, 
which he made equivalent to thought. 

Democ'ritus, of AbdeVa in Thrace (460-357 B.C.), known 


238 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


as the laughing philosopher from his constantly deriding the 
weaknesses of men, put forth the atomic theory , — that the uni- 
verse is made up of countless minute, intangible atoms, and 
that in the motion of such atoms, round and fiery, consisted 
the movements of the mind and soul. God had no place in 
this philosophy ; matter, time, space, and motion, were eter- 
nal. Bodies were formed by the fortuitous concurrence of 
atoms ; and by the affinities and motions of atoms in the 
vacuum that made up the universe, all natural phenomena 
were produced. 

Such was the wisdom of one who laughed at the follies of 
his fellows, and is stated to have put out his own eyes that 
nothing might distract the current of his thoughts. 

School of Epicurus. — The materialism of Democritus was 
at a later day elaborated by Epicurus (born on Samos about 
340 B.C.) into a system of philosophy which gained so many 
converts that we are told whole cities could not contain the 
friends and followers of its author. According to the Epicu- 
rean philosophy, chance governed the world of atoms ; there 
was no life beyond the grave. The gods were immortal, but 
were mere figure-heads, enjoying an emotionless inactivity, 
indifferent alike to the vices and fortunes of men : most likely 
Epicurus did not believe in any gods at all, but allowed their 
existence, as nonentities, that he might not shock the prej- 
udices of the Athenians. Pleasure he made the chief end of 
life ; but with him pleasure was not sensual indulgence ; it 
lay in freedom from pain, the sober exercise of reason, and 
the nobler enjoyments of man’s higher nature. Such a doc- 
trine, it is plain, was but too easy of perversion. The pure, 
high-toned “ pleasure ” of the moral Epicurus degenerated 
with the voluptuaries and profligates that adopted his tenets 
into the vilest excesses, and the very name epicure is applied 
to one unduly addicted to the gratifying of the appetite. 

The Skeptical Philosophy. — Pyrrho, who flourished about 


SOCRATES. 


23 & 


300 B.C., was the father of the Skeptics. They held that 
there was no standard of truth appreciable by the human 
mind ; nothing can therefore be asserted as true. Pyrrho 
doubted everything ; his disciples used to follow him, lest, in 
practically applying his theory, he should be run over in the 
streets or walk off a precipice. 

The Socratic School. — When Socrates (470-399 B.C.) came 
upon the stage in the golden period of Athens, it was to de- 
nounce the atheistical philosophy of his predecessors, and 
take the field against the Sophists, who made endless dispu- 
tation, fallacious but specious, the head and front of their 
system. “ These word - snapping quibblers,” says Felton, 
“were prodigious favorites with the Athenians, — men who 
proved that right was wrong, and wrong right, and that there 
was neither wrong nor right ; that knowing one thing is 
knowing everything, and that there is no such thing as know- 
ing anything at all ; that as the beautiful exists by the pres- 
ence of beauty, so a man becomes an ass by the presence 
of an ass ; and so on, ringing myriads of changes, like the 
fools in Shakespeare, upon these quirks of jugglery.” 

Socrates had an effective way of dealing with these gentry. 
By cunningly contrived questions, which at first seemed to 
have no bearing on the point at issue, he led them on from 
admission to admission, until he involved them in absurdities 
and convicted them out of their own mouths. 

For one like Socrates, the mythology of Greece was too 
gross, the speculations of the philosophy then current were 
too unreal and hollow. He aspired to something better. At 
length the unity of God, the soul’s immortality, and the moral 
responsibility of man, dawned upon his mind — sublime truths 
which he might well have drawn from revelation itself. The 
practice of virtue he inculcated as indispensable to happi- 
ness and true religion. A demon, or secret influence, he said, 
constantly attended him, and was his director in the work of 


240 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


social reform no less than in the every-day affairs of life. 
Whether he deceived himself in this belief or strove to de- 
ceive others into it that he might gain credence for his doc- 
trines, certain it is that his teachings exercised a most whole- 
some influence. All subsequent Greek philosophy is stamped 
with their impress. (See Blackie'^s Horce Hellenicce,^'^ 

In his domestic relations, Socrates was not happy. Be- 
lieving it incumbent on him to devote every moment to phil- 
osophical inquiry or exhortations of the people to practical 
morality, he was wont to neglect his legitimate business of 
stone-cutting, and leave his family to provide for its own sup- 
port. This was too much for his good wife Xantippe. Some- 
thing of a shrew even under the best of circumstances, we 
may imagine that she made his household rather hot, par- 
ticularly when he brought guests home to dinner and there 
was nothing in the larder. On one occasion she went so 
far as to give emphasis to her reproaches with a shower of 
dish-water. The dripping philosopher, not in the least dis- 
turbed, calmly remarked, “I thought after so much thunder, 
we should have some rain.” 

Socrates declined the invitation of a Macedonian prince to 
live in luxury at his court, with the characteristic reply, “ At 
Athens meal is two-pence the measure, and water may be 
had for nothing.” He clung to Athens to the last, and so 
doing won a martyr’s crown. Accused of impiety in corrupt- 
ing the religious belief of the young committed to his charge, 
he w’as condemned to drink the fatal hemlock. Surrounded 
by sorrowing disciples, who had bribed the jailer and vainly 
urged him to fly while there was yet time, he calmly placed 
the cup to his lips, and soon after passed away with not a 
doubt as to “the undiscovered country.” “I derive confi- 
dence,” said he, “from the hope that something of man re- 
mains after death, and that the condition of good men will 
then be much better than that of the bad.” 


THE ACADEMIC PHILOSOPHY. 


241 


Socrates failed to commit his philosophy to writing ; it is 
from the pages of Xenophon and Plato, his most devoted ad- 
mirers, that we have learned his doctrines. 

The principal schools that originated in the Socratic were 
the Academic, Peripatetic, Cynic, and Stoic. 

Academic School. — Plato, — The Academic School was 
founded by Socrates’ pupil, Plato, and derived its name from 
the grove of Acade'mus, a public garden at Athens in which 
this philosopher was accustomed to deliver his lectures. 
Beneath its planes and olives flowed the stream Cephissus ; 



242 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Plato was noble-born, tracing his descent from King Co- 
drus through one parent and from Solon through the other. 
His great genius was early seen. After mastering the ele- 
mentary branches, he turned his attention to painting and 
poetry; but when he compared an epic on which he had tried 
his hand with Homer’s, he threw it into the fire in disgust. 
Chancing to hear Socrates discourse, he forthwith resolved to 
forsake the ornamental arts and study philosophy. So, when 
only twenty, Plato attached himself to Socrates; his admira- 
tion quickly ripened into an abiding affection ; and for eight 
years he sat at the philosopher’s feet as a pupil, though now 
and then obtruding new theories of his own. In the dark 
days of his master’s trial and condemnation, he was still faith- 
ful ; and when the judges silenced his speech in defence of 
Socrates, he would have resorted to the money-argument, 
which then, as now, seldom failed, had not the high-minded 
sage refused to secure life by such ignoble means. 

After the execution of Socrates, Plato pursued his studies 
in foreign lands. He visited Italy, Sicily, and Egypt, carefully 
examining their different systems of philosophy, and possibly 
even making the acquaintance of the Hebrew Scriptures. 
During this tour he is related to have been sold into slavery 
at the instigation of Dionysius, tyrant of Syracuse, whom he 
had offended by his bold expressions. 

On his return to Athens, in accordance with a long-cher- 
ished plan, Plato opened an humble dwelling in the grove of 
Academus for the reception of pupils, and founded the famous 
Academic School. He soon became the most popular man 
in Athens. Crowds thronged to his lectures and dialogues, 
which were free to all ; and even ladies assumed male attire, 
that they might mingle unnoticed with the listeners and drink 
in the eloquence which flowed from his lips. His fame went 
abroad also. Foreign potentates sought his aid in adjusting 
political difficulties ; and twice, by request, he returned to the 


PLATO AND HIS PHILOSOPHY. 


243 


Syracusan court to effect a reform in the government — but 
in this case, without success. 

On his eighty-second birthday, while he was pursuing his 
accustomed occupation, the stylus suddenly fell from Plato’s 
hand, and he expired. Under the trees so long associated 
with his kindly instruction, he found a final resting-place ; an 
admiring country preserved his memory by altars and statues; 
and the verdict of succeeding generations has been that Plato 
was the greatest philosopher of antiquity. 

Plato’s Philosophical System. — Plato was an enthusiast 
in the pursuit of truth. He believed in a personal God, ra- 
tional, immutable, eternal. He realized that man could never 
attain absolute wisdom, possible to God alone ; and looked 
upon philosophy as “a longing after heavenly wisdom.” He 
sought to correct abuses, to elevate humanity ; and made 
man’s highest duty consist in searching out God and imitat- 
ing the perfection of the Almighty as his rule of conduct. 
The four cardinal virtues were wisdom, temperance, courage, 
and justice ; but none could be virtuous without aid from on 
high. {Read Bulkleys Plato's Best Thoughts P') 

The soul, an emanation from the Supreme Mind, was im- 
mortal. It existed before its union with the body, and all 
earthly knowledge is but the recollection of what it possessed 
in some former state. When, disembodied, it stood face to 
face with kindred immaterial essences, it acquired those ideas^ 
or forms^ which figure so prominently in the Platonic system 
—interpreted by some to mean veritable objective existences 
too subtile to be discerned by the eye of flesh, and by others 
explained as mere intuitions or generalizations having no ob- 
jective reality. 

Plato regarded men as free agents, to be rewarded or pun- 
ished in a future life for their deeds in this. His poetical 
fancy fixed on some distant star as the abode of the blessed. 
The earth he supposed to occupy the centre of the universe. 


244 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


It was not eternal, but was made by an intelligent God, who 
breathed into it a soul; so it was a living creature, self-active, 
and gifted with the beautiful form of the sphere. 

Nor did the philosopher forget to train the reasoning pow- 
ers, by the study of mathematics. The importance he attached 
to this science may be inferred from the sign on his school: 
‘‘ Let no one enter here who is a stranger to geometry.” Plato 
has the honor of having been the inventor of geometrical 
analysis. 

Plato’s Works, which have descended to us unimpaired, 
are in the form of dialogues — a delightful method of convey- 
ing philosophical instruction, when, as in Plato’s case, the 
personages introduced as speakers are salient characters, and 
their idiosyncrasies are maintained throughout with discrim- 
ination. The dull lessons of dialectics are thus enlivened by 
graphic portraitures and happy strokes of humor. Plato’s 
language is the perfection of Attic prose, beautified by a poet- 
ical tinge. “If Jupiter should speak Greek,” said ancient 
critics, “ it would be Plato’s.” What Socrates dreamed on 
the night before the young Plato entered his school — that a 
cygnet came from the grove of Academus, and, after nestling 
on his breast for a time, took its flight heavenward, singing 
sweetly as it rose — is recorded as presaging his pupil’s sweet 
mastery of words. 

The Platonic Dialogues, thirty-five in number, discuss vari- 
ous subjects; One of the finest is “ Phsedo,” written to prove 
the immortal nature of the soul. It derives its name from the 
beloved disciple of Socrates, who is here made by Plato, pre- 
vented from being present himself, to describe their master’s 
death-scene and repeat his last discourse. Full of sublime 
and poetical conceptions, the “ Phaedo ” aims at lifting the 
mind above the sensual to the spiritual and eternal; at fore- 
shadowing the joys of the heavenly state, and painting death 
as a thing to be desired rather than feared, since it is the por- 


PLATO ON IMMOUTALITY. 


245 


tal of bliss. The philosopher Cleom'brotus, on reading this 
Dialogue, is said to have thrown himself into the sea to ex- 
change this life for the better one pictured by Plato. 

EXTRACT FROM PH^DO. 

(Socrates, having proved the immortality of the soul to the satisfaction of 
all present in the prison, addresses them as follows.) 

“ Then, Cehes, beyond question, the soul is immortal and imperish- 
able, and our souls will truly exist in another world!” 

I am convinced, Socrates,” said Cebes, “ and have nothing more 
to object ; but if my friend Simmias, or any one else, has any further 
objection, he had better speak out, and not keep silence, since I do 
not know to what otlier season he can defer the discussion, if there 
is anything wdiich he wants to say or have said.” 

“I have nothing more to say,” re[)lied Simmias; “nor can I see 
any reason for doubt after wliat has been said. But I still feel and 
cannot help feeling uncertain in my ow n mind, when I think of the 
greatness of the subject and the feebleness of man.” 

“ Yes, Simmias,” replied Socrates, “ that is well said ; but O my 
friends ! if the soul is really immortal, what care should be taken of 
her, not oulj^ in respect of the portion of rime w hich is called life, but 
of eternity ! And the danger of neglecting her from this point of 
view does indeed ai)pear to be awful. If death had only been the 
end of all, the wicked would have had a good bargain in dying, for 
they would have been happily quit not only of their body, but of 
their own evil together w ith their souls. But now', inasmuch as the 
soul is manifestly immortal, there is no release or salvation from evil 
except the attainment of the highest virtue and wisdom. For the 
soul, when on her progress to the w'orld below, takes nothing with 
her but nurture and education ; and these are said greatly to bene- 
fit or greatly to injure the departed, at the very beginning of his 
pilgrimage in the other world. 

“ Wherefore, Simmias, seeing all these things, what ought not we 
to do that we may obtain virtue and wdsdoni iii this life? Fair is 
the prize, and the hope great I 

“ A man of sense ought not to say that the description which I have 
given of the soul and her mansions is exactly true. But I do say that, 
inasmuch as the soul is showai to be immortal, he may venture to 
think that something of the kind is true. The venture is a glorioiis 
one, and he ought to comfort himself with words like these, w hich is 
the reason w hy I lengthen out the tale. 

“Wherefore, I say, let a man be of good cheer about his soul, who 
has cast aw ay the pleasures and ornaments of the body as alien 
to him, and has followed after the pleasures of knowledge in this 
life; who has arrayed the soul in her ow n proper jewels, which are 


24G 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


temperance, and justice, and courage, and nobility, and truth — thus 
adorned, she is ready to go on her journey to the world below when 
her hour comes. 

“ You, Simmias and Cebes, and all otlier men, will depart at some 
time or other. Me already, as the tragic poet would say, tbe voice of 
fate calls. Soon I must drink the poison; and I think that I had 
better repair to the bath first, in order that the women may not have 
the trouble of washing my body after I am dead.” 

When he had done speaking, Crito said : “And have yon any com- 
mands for us, Socrates ? anything to say about your children, or any 
other matter in which we can serve you?” 

“ Nothing particular,” he said: “only, as I have always told you, 
I would have you look to yourselves; that is a service which you 
may always be doing to me and mine as well as to yourselves.” 

“ We will do our best,” said Crito ; “ but in what way would you 
have us bury you ?” 

“ In any way that you like ; only you must get hold of me, and 
take care that I do not walk away from you.” 

Then he turned to us, and added with a smile : — “ I cannot make 
Crito believe that I am the same Socrates who have been talking and 
conducting the argument ; he fancies that I am the other Socrates 
Avhom he will soon see, a dead body — and he asks. How shall he bury 
me? And though I have spoken many words in the endeavor to 
show that when I have drunk the poison I shall leave you and go to 
the joys of the blessed, these words of mine, with which I comforted 
yon and myself, have liad, as I perceive, no effect upon Crito. 

“ You must be my surety to him that I shall not remain, but go 
away and depart; and then he will suffer less at my death, and not 
l)e grieved when he sees my body being burned or buried. I would 
not have him sorrow at my hard lot, or say at the burial, ^Thus we 
lay out Socrates,’ or ‘Thus we follow him to the grave or bury him ;’ 
for false words are not only evil in themselves, but they infect the 
soul with evil. Ife of good cheer then, my dear Crito, and say that 
you are burying my body only, and do with that as is usual, and as 
you think best.— Jowett.— (In tliis connection read Grate’s “ Plato 
and the Other Companions of Socrates.”) 

In his “Republic,” Plato indulges in a political dream, 
sketching an ideal government and embodying his conception 
of absolute justice. In his “Atlantis,” he describes a large 
island lying west of Europe, which some have tried to con- 
nect with America. 

The Academic School long survived its founder ; but little 
if any advance was made by his successors. Its fundamental 
tenets outlived Greece and Rome, to reappear in the schools 


ARISTOTLE. 


247 


of modern times. Many of them are in wonderful harmony 
with Christian doctrines; and such a resemblance to the Jew- 
ish Scriptures has been detected in the writings of their author 
that he has been called “ the Attic Moses.” 

Peripatetic School. — Aristotle. — The Peripatetic was an off- 
shoot from the Academic School, its founder Aristotle having 
for twenty years studied under Plato. Its influence cannot 
be estimated ; for i,8oo years, up to the revival of letters in 
modern times, its author was recognized as the supreme au- 
thority on every subject, whether by Moslem or Christian. 

Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) was born at the Thracian town 
of Stagi'ra. Inheriting from his father literary tastes as well 
as the means to gratify them, he selected Athens as the scene 
of his labors, and there, at the age of seventeen, he entered 
the Academy of Plato. So energetically did he apply him- 
self, not as a servile follower but often as a pioneer in new 
paths of his own, that his master said he required the bit 
rather than the spur, and styled him the Intellect of the 
school. On one occasion, when none but this ardent pupil 
was present to hear his lecture, Plato proceeded as usual, 
saying that “ so long as he had Aristotle for an audience, he 
had the better half of Athens.” His industry was proverbial ; 
he grudged the time needed for repose, and used to sleep 
with a ball in his hand, that when it fell from his grasp by 
the relaxing of the muscles the noise would awaken him. 

When Plato died, Aristotle retired from the Academy; and 
in 342 B.C. he received the following letter from Philip of 
Macedon, whose court he had visited as an ambassador ; — 

“ Philip to Aristotle, wisheth health : 

Be informed that I have a son, and that I am thankful to the gods, 
not so much for his hirth, as that he was born in the same age with 
yon ; for if you will undertake the charge of his education, I assure 
myself that he will become worthy of his father, and of the kingdom 
which he will inherit.” 

There was no declining such an invitation. At Stagira, his 


248 


grp:cian literature. 


native town, Philip provided a school and the accustomed 
grove for instruction, in which the philosopher moulded the 
mind of Alexander the future Conqueror. The king of Mace- 
don was more than satisfied with the results ; and the royal 
pupil owned his indebtedness to his teacher, exclaiming, 
“ Philip only gave me life, but Aristotle has taught me the 
art of living well !” 

When, on the assassination of Philip, Alexander mounted 
the throne and embarked on that expedition which extended 
the sway of Macedon over half the known world, he showed 
his gratitude by making his instructor a munificent present 
equivalent to nearly $1,000,000, and employed two or three 
thousand men to fill his cabinets with specimens. Thus 
supplied with material and funds, Aristotle, established in 
Athens since 335 B.C. as a distinguished teacher despite 
his traditional lisp and insignificant appearance, vigorously 
prosecuted his scientific labors. At the Lyce'um, Apollo’s 
temple, he gave instruction to his disciples, walking up and 
down in the covered paths {peripatoi) about the building — 
whence the name of his school. Peripatetic. He mastered all 
existing knowledge, regarding learning as “an ornament to 
men in prosperity, a refuge in adversity and for thirteen 
years divided his time between his pupils and his literary 
work. 

The news of Alexander’s sudden death was the signal for 
Aristotle’s enemies, no longer restrained by fear of his royal 
friend, to show their hand. Impiety was alleged against 
him ; but mindful of the fate of Socrates, and, as he said, to 
prevent the Athenians from sinning a second time against 
philosophy, he retired to Chalcis on the island of Euboea, 
where he died within a year. 

Philosophy and Writings of Aristotle. —While to 
some extent following his master, from several of Plato’s 
doctrines Aristotle felt compelled to dissent ; truth, he said. 


Aristotle’s philosophy. 


249 


was dearer to him than any friend.* He did not accept the 
Ideal theory, but inclined to materialism or to pantheism, 
making reason divine and omnipresent. He doubted his own 
immortality, holding that the soul could not exist apart from 
the body, and that there is “ nothing good or bad beyond to 
the dead.” His style was dry, elliptical, and full of techni- 
calities ; if we compare it. with Plato’s, we have the opposite 
poles of the magnet. 

Plato was all imagination, Aristotle was thoroughly practi- 
cal. . The inspiration of the one was a passionate love of 
wisdom ; the forte of the other was power of analysis, a won- 
derful faculty of systemizing knowledge. The master capti 
vated the heart \ the pupil convinced the reason. “ The 
philosophy of Plato,” says Dr. Draper, “ is a gorgeous castle 
in the air \ that of Aristotle is a solid structure laboriously 
founded on rock.” 

Aristotle’s style is devoid of ornament, and his subjects 
are too abstruse for the general run of readers ; but he was 
a keen observer and a close reasoner. A few paragraphs 
from his Rhetoric, in which he anal3^zes the peculiarities 
of old age, will show how well he understood human nature. 

THE DISPOSITION OF THE OLD. 

Those who are advanced in life, having been deceived in a 
greater number of instances, err in everything more on the side of 
defect than they ought. And they always suppose, but never Mow 
certainly; and, questioning everything, tliey always subjoin a per- 
laps, or SL possibl}/. And they are apt to view things in an unfavor- 
able light; for a disposition thus to view things, is the judging ot 
everything on the worse side. 

Moreover, they are apt to be suspicions from distrust, and they are 
distrustful from their experience. And on this account they neither 
love nor hate with great earnestness; but, conformably to the re- 
mark of Bias, they both love as though about to hate, and hate as 
though about to love. And they are piisillanimons, from their hav- 


* Hence probably the origin of the proverb, “ Amicus PLato, sed magis arnica' 
veritas ” — “ Plato is but truth is dearer." 

h 


250 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


ing been humbled by the course of life ; for they raise their desires 
to nothing great or vast, but to things only which conduce to the 
support of life. 

And they are illiberal ; for property is one of the necessaries ; and 
they are at the same time aware, from their experience, of the diffi- 
culty of its acquisition, and of the ease with which it is lost. They 
are timid and apprehensive of everything; for their disposition is 
the reverse of that of the young; for they have been chilled by 
years, but the young are warm in their temperament ; so that their 
age has paved the way to timidity ; for fear is a certain kind of 
chill. 

And they are attached to life, and particularly at its last closing 
day, from the circumstance that desire is of some object which is 
absent, and that men more especially desire that of which they 
stand in need. 

They have self-love more than is fitting ; for this too is a kind of 
littleness of spirit. And they live in a greater degree than they 
ought by the standard of expediency, and not of what is honorable, 
by reason of their self-love : for what is expedient is good relatively 
to one’s self, but what is honorable is good absolutely. 

Again, they are not easily inspired with hope, on account of their 
experience ; for the majority of things are but paltry ; wherefore the 
generality turn out inferior to the expectation; and once more, on 
account of their timidity they are apt to despond. And they live 
more in memory than in hope ; for the remnant of life is brief, but 
what has passed is considerable ; and hope indeed is of what is to 
come ; whereas memory is of things gone by. The very reason, this, 
of their garrulity ; for they never cease talking of that which has 
taken place, since they are delighted in awakening the recollections 
of things. 

And their anger is keen, but faint. And some of their desires 
have abandoned them. Others are faint ; so that neither are they 
liable to the influence of desire, nor apt to act in conformity to it, 
but with a view to gain ; on which account men of this age appear 
to be naturally temperate, for both their desires have relaxed, and 
they are enslaved to gain. 

The old have moreover a tendency to pity, but not on the same 
principle with the young; for the latter are thus disposed from their 
love of human nature ; the former from their imbecility. Whence 
they are querulous, and neither facetious nor fond of mirth ; for 
querulonsness is the very reverse of fondness for mirth. Such is 
the disposition of those in advanced life.” — Theodore Buckley, 


The writings of Aristotle exhausted the fields of art and 
science ; 400 treatises, most of which have perished, at one 
time bore his name. Rhetoric, usvchology or mental sci- 


aristotlb’s mode op reasoning. 


251 


ence, and natural history, owed to him their origin. In his 
“Organon” was first presented the method of deduction^ — the 
process by which the mind reasons down from general propo- 
sitions to particular cases, by means of the syllogism^ the organ 
or instrument of reasoning. Men had thus arrived at con- 
clusions for ages, without any knowledge of Aristotle’s for- 
mulae, just as they had talked correctly though ignorant of 
analytical grammar. It was reserved for the Stagirite to dis- 
cover the laws by which they drew conclusions, and thus at 
once to found and perfect Logic. This was the science of 
reasonings as contrasted with Plato’s dialectics or method of 
discussing. {^See Benn's “ The Greek Philosophers 

Nor was Aristotle unacquainted with Induction, the great 
lever of modern philosophy. This process, which reverses 
the steps of deduction,* and reasons from particular cases up 
to general laws, was employed in his researches, but was not 
fully developed till twenty centuries later in the “Novum 
Organon” of Lord Bacon, opening the way to a new era in 
scientific investigation. 

Aristotle willed his writings to his disciple Theophrastus, 
whom we shall next consider ; and for many years they were 
kept from the world, while numerous imitations and forgeries 
gained the popular ear through the prestige of Aristotle’s name. 
It was not till 50 B.C. that a complete edition of the genuine 
works was published, and then at Rome. Meanwhile the Ly- 
ceum had waned ; its later heads were men of mediocre ability. 


* The difference between reasoning by Deduction and by Induction may be 
made clearer by the following examples : — 

Deduction. — Dogs are quadrupeds. 

Tray is a dog. 

Therefore, Tray is a quadruped. 

Induction. — Tray is a quadruped; Carlo is a quadruped; Fan is a quad- 
ruped ; Pet is a quadruped ; etc. 

Tray, Carlo, Fan, Pet, ete., are dogs. 

Therefore, all dogs are quadrupeds. 


252 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


and the Peripatetic School was superseded in popular estima- 
tion by the Epicurean and the Stoic. 

Theophrastus, of Lesbos (374-287 B.C.), a pupil of Plato 
and afterward of Aristotle, succeeded the latter, by his ap 
pointment, as head of the Lyceum. During his time, he 
maintained the high reputation of the school, attracting many 
to it from all parts of Greece by his eloquence. That he 
might address a still larger audience, he wrote numerous 
treatises on philosophy and natural history. 

His “ Moral Characters,” which have descended to us, 
show up in lively colors such representative personages as 
the Gabbler, the Niggard, the Noodle, the Grumbler, the 
Swell, the Poltroon, the Slanderer, the Newsmonger, the 
Clown, etc., from whom, it seems, that Greek society was not 
exempt any more than our own. These were the first char- 
acter-sketches ever made; they served as models to La 
Bruyere in French, to Sir Thomas Overbury and others in 
English literature. As specimens, we cull the most pointed 
portions of the sections on the Flatterer and the Unseason- 
able Man. 


THE FLATTERER. 

“Flattery may be considered as a mode of companionship, de- 
grading but prolitable to him who flatters. 

The Flatterer is a person who will say as he walks with another, 
‘Do you observe how people are looking at you? This happens to 
no man in Athens but you. A compliment was paid to you yester- 
day in the Porch. More than thirty persons were sitting there ; 
the question w'as started. Who is our foremost man ? Every one 
mentioned you first, and ended by coming back to your name.’ 

Then he will request the company to be silent while the great 
man is speaking, and will praise him, too, in his hearing, and mark 
his approbation at a pause with ‘ True or he will laugh at a frigid 
joke, and stuff his cloak into his mouth as if he could not repress 
his amusement. 

He will request those whom he meets to stand still until ‘his 
Honor’ has passed. He will buy apples and pears, and bring them 
in, and give to the children in the father’s i^resence; adding, with 
kisses, ‘ Chicks of a good father.’ Also, when he assists at the pur- 


253 


“ CIIAKAOTEKS ” OF THEOPIIKASTUS. 

chase of slippers, he ^vill declare that the foot is more shapely than 
the shoe. If his patron is approaching a friend, he will run forward 
and say, ‘ He is coming to you and then, turning back, ‘ I have an- 
nounced you.’ 

He is the first of the gnests to praise the wine ; and to say, as he 
reclines next the host, ‘How delicate is your fare! and (taking up 
something from the table) ‘ Now this — how excellent it is V He will 
say that his patron’s house is well built, that his land is well planted, 
and that his portrait is a good likeness.” — Jebb. 


. . MR. MALAPROP. 

“ Unseasonable behavior is such a manner of conversation as is 
very troublesome to those with whom you converse. 

A man that acts unseasonably will intrude himself upon his friend, 
when he is engaged in earnest business, and consult him about his 
own private concerns. When his mistress lies dangerously ill of a 
fever, he’ll make her a visit and carry himself gayly. If he stands in 
need of a surety, he begs that favor of one who has just smarted for 
being bound to another. If he is summoned for a witness in any 
cause, he appears in court immediately after judgment has been given. 

When he is invited to a wedding, he takes the opportunity to rail 
at the fair sex. If he meets a friend who has just come home from a 
long journey, he’ll pre.ss him to take a walk. He is ever ready and 
punctual, as soon as a shop-keeper has sold his goods, to help him to 
a customer that would have given more. 

If he happens to be in a place where a servant is chastised, all the 
comfort he gives him is to tell him that he also had formerly a boy 
whom he chastised in the same manner, and that the poor lad so re- 
sented this usage that he immediately made way with himself. If 
he is accidentally present at an arbitration, where the contending 
parties desire to have the matter in dispute between them amicably 
settled, instead of promoting a reconciliation, he sets them together 
by the ears, and makes the difference ten times greater than it was 
before.” — Gally. 

The Stoic School was so called from the Painted Portico 
(s/oa) at Athens, where its founder Zeno, the Cyprian, taught 
for fifty-eight years (318-260 B.C.). It was based on high 
moral principles, but was not free from errors. Duty was all 
in this philosophy ; virtue alone, happiness. Mastery of self, 
contempt alike for pleasure and pain, were leading doctrines. 

Fate governed the world, even God himself. Yet Zeno did 
not allow this doctrine to excuse shortcomings or interfere 


254 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


with individual responsibility. When his slave, detected in 
theft, besought exemption from chastisement on the plea that 
it was fated for him to steal, he replied, “Yes, and it was also 
fated for you to be flogged.” 

Suicide, in Zeno’s creed, was justifiable when a man had 
outlived his usefulness, and the great philosopher practised as 
he preached ; for, having received a severe fall at the age of 
ninety-eight, he quietly remarked, “I obey the summons,” and 
went and hanged himself. 

Zeno enjoyed public confidence at home as well as the re- 
spect of foreign princes ; among his disciples were enrolled 
some of the greatest men of Greece and Rome. Nothing re- 
mains of his writings. 

The Cynics derived their name from the gymnasium of Cyn- 
osarges, near the Lyceum, where they gathered to listen to An- 
tisthenes, a pupil of Socrates. This extremist perverted his 
master’s theory of virtue, which he made to consist in a com- 
fortless life, a renunciation of pleasure, and a contemptuous 
and even shameless independence of manners. Yet Socrates 
saw pride even through the holes of Antisthenes’ shabby robe. 

Antisthenes was not much in metaphysics. He was puzzled 
by abstract generalizations, and to Plato’s Idealism opposed 
an uncompromising Realism. “ Plato,” he said, “ I can see a 
horse, and I can see a man, but horsehood and manhood I 
cannot see.” — “True,” replied Plato, “you have the eye that 
can see a horse and a man ; but the eye which can see horse- 
hood and manhood you lack.” 

Of the many works of this first Cynic philosopher, scarcely 
anything is left. They were probably steeped in gall, for his 
powers of sarcasm were unsurpassed ; he dealt trenchant 
blows at what he considered folly, wherever he found it. He 
ridiculed the want of judgment displayed at Athens in the 
selection of generals, by counselling the Athenians to vote 
their asses horses. “ That is absurd,” was the reply. “ No 


THE CYNIC PHILOSOPHY. 


255 


more so,” he retorted, “ than to think you have made igno- 
ramuses generals, by simply lifting up the hand.” Once when 
annoyed at a speaker’s dilating on the joys of the future state, 
he abruptly demanded, “ Why don’t you die, then ?” 

His successor, Diogenes, carried out the role. Soured by 
the disgraceful failure of his father, he turned to the ascetic 
philosophy of the Cynics, and took a morbid pleasure in out- 
raging society by his infringements on decency. His satirical 
remarks, which cut to the quick, earned him the title of “ the 
Dog” by way of eminence. He slept wherever he happened 
to be, on stoops or in a tub ; and eschewing artificial wants, 
he felt so rebuked when he saw a boy drinking through his 
hands and receiving his pottage in a hollowed loaf, that he 
threw away his cup and platter. 

Into such snarling, insolent, and offensive misanthropes did 
the Cynics degenerate, that the name of their sect was popu- 
larly traced to the dogs (in Greek cynes) they so much resem- 
bled. — To this complexion did the noble philosophy of Soc- 
rates come at last. 

ORATORY. 

Political Eloquence, like the drama, history, and philosophy, 
attained perfection in the golden age. Public speaking was 
a natural accomplishment of the Greeks ; and from the days 
of Homer down, soldiers, legislators, and statesmen, had been 
distinguished as orators. In Pericles, who made eloquence a 
study, we are introduced to one of the world’s most polished 
speakers. (Consult yebds '‘'‘Attic Orators y') 

But the cultivation of rhetoric and oratory as an art was first 
popularized by Gorgias of Leonti'ni (see Map, p. 304), who 
about 427 B.C. transplanted it from Sicily and saw it flourish 
in Athenian soil as it had never flourished before. Gorgias 
founded a school of eloquence at Athens, which was thronged 
by the great men of the time, eager to acquire the persuasive 
arts of the Sicilian teacher. Thus rhetoric became a fashion- 


256 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


able accomplishment; and to such account was it turned by 
the taste and genius of the Attic Greeks that they soon pro- 
duced the greatest orators of history. 

Among these was the graceful and elegant Lysias {lish'e-ds 
— 458-378 B.C.), compared by Quintilian to a pure fountain 
rather than a great river ; and Is^eus, the leading barrister of 
Athens and preceptor of Demosthenes. Greater than either 
as a teacher and writer of orations for others, though through 
timidity he rarely appeared in public himself, was Isocrates, 
founder of a school from which Cicero said, “as from the 
Trojan horse, princes only proceeded to use his own figure, 
he was a whetstpne which imparted the pow’er of cutting to 
other things, but cut not itself. Finally, to this category be- 
longed the great rivals ^schines and Demosthenes, foremost 
of the Attic orators. 

Demosthenes (384-322 B.C. — it is worth remembering that 
his dates are identical with Aristotle’s) stands alone in the 
pow'er of his eloquence. Born in Attica, he was left fatherless 
at the age of seven, but inherited a large fortune. The bulk 
of this his guardians made away with ; although they engaged 
the best talent in the land to superintend the education of their 
ward. When Demosthenes arrived at his majority, he brought 
suit against them, and wrote his maiden speeches with such 
skill as to obtain a judgment in his favor. 

The study of oratory now became the passion of his life. 
By indomitable perseverance he overcame what to many would 
have proved insuperable difficulties — shortness of breath, a 
sickly constitution, a weak and stammering utterance, and 
awkwardness in gesticulating. He practised on the seashore 
till his voice rose clear and full above the breakers ; he placed 
pebbles in his mouth while declaiming to correct his articula- 
tion, and improved his breathing by running up steep hills. 
A friendly mirror helped him to make his gestures effective ; 
and he spent months at a time in a room underground, occu- 


DEMOSTHENES. 


257 


pied in study, or in copying the history of Thucydides to 
strengthen his style. Thus, in spite of every natural disad- 
vantage, he placed himself by his own efforts “ at the head of 
all mighty masters of speech.” He lived to receive the hom- 
age, not only of those Athenians who had hissed the early 
performances of “the stammerer,” but of crowds gathered 
from all quarters of Greece. 

Conciseness, precision, clearness, compact reasoning, power 
of invective, and vehemence compared to that of a torrent 
carrying everything before it, were characteristic of the ora- 
tions of Demosthenes. Sixty-one of these (probably not all 
genuine) are still extant, the most famous being the twelve 
“ Philippics,” delivered against Philip of Macedon, who was 
insidiously plotting the subversion of Grecian liberty. De- 
mosthenes penetrated his designs, disdained his bribes, and 
for fourteen years struggled nobly against him. His impas- 
sioned utterances at last roused the slumbering patriotism of 
his countrymen, and, joined by the Thebans, they met Philip 
at Chaeronea — but only to be hopelessly defeated. The fate 
of Greece was sealed. Demosthenes fled from the field and 
escaped to Athens, where he delivered the funeral eulogy on 
the slain. 

The success of Philip strengthened the Macedonian sympa- 
thizers in Athens, at the head of whom was the orator ^schi- 
nes, accused by Demosthenes of being in the pay of Macedon. 
When, therefore, Ctesiphon proposed that the services of De- 
mosthenes be rewarded with a golden crown, ^schines op- 
posed the measure. After a delay of six years, during which 
we may be sure both orators strained every nerve to prepare 
for the decisive struggle, the final contest took place before a 
vast and excited concourse. The fiery vigor of Demosthenes, 
in the most splendid effort of ancient eloquence, swept away 
like feathers the arguments, the wit, the sarcasm, of his oppo* 
nent ; ^schines was utterly discomfited. 

L 2 


258 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


The elaborate speech “ On the Crown ” is the masterpiece 
of Demosthenes ; we give parts of the peroration. 

FROM DEMOSTHENES’ ORATION ON THE CROWN. 

“ Do you theu, .^schines, ask me for what merit I claim public 
honors? I will tell you. It is because, when all the statesmen in 
Greece had been corrupted, beginning with yourself, first by Philip 
and then by Alexander, I was never induced nor tempted b}’^ oppor- 
tunity, nor by fair speeches, nor by the magnitude of proffered bribes, 
nor by hope, nor by fear, nor by favor, nor by any other considera- 
tion, to swerve a hair’s-breadth from the course which I believed to 
be right and for the public good. Never, in weighing my public 
counsels, have I, like you, inclined to the scale in which hung my 
private advantage ; but all that I have done has been done straight- 
forwardly, incorruptly, and with singleness of purpose. While I have 
been charged with affairs of greater magnitude than any of my con- 
temporaries, the whole of my administration has been pure, honest, 
disinterested. These are the grounds on which I claim to be hon- 
ored. 

As for the fortifications and intrenchments which you have sneered 
at, I deem myself entitled to thanks and gratitude on that behalf. 
Wherefore should I not ? But I am far, indeed, from placing such 
services in the same category with my general policy. It is not with 
stones nor with bricks that I have fortified Athens; it is not upon 
snch works that I chiefly value myself; but if you would truly ap- 
preciate my fortifications, you will find them in arms, cities, territo- 
ries, harbors, ships, and men to avail themselves of these advantages. 
These are the outworks which I have thrown up before Attica, ac- 
cording to the best of human foresight ; by these have I fortified the 
whole conntry, not merely the circuit of the Piraeus and the city. 
Nor was I defeated by the calculations or preparations of Philip ; far 
from it : but the generals and the forces of our allies were defeated 
by Fortune. * * * 

If my measures had been successful — O heaven and earth! wo 
must, beyond all question, have become a first-rate power, as we well 
deserved to be. If they have failed, we have left to us our honor. 
No reproach can attach to the state or to its policy, but Fortune must 
bear the blame, who has so ordered our affairs. Never, never, will 
the patriotic citizen desert his country’s cause, and, hiring himself 
to her foes, watch his opportunities of injuring her ; never will he 
malign the statesman who in his utterances and his measures has 
consistently maintained his country’s honor; nor will he nurse aud 
treasure up resentment for private wrongs ; nor, lastly, will he 
maintain a dishonest and a treacherous silence, as you have often 
done. * * * 

No part, ^schines, have you taken in any measure for strengthen- 


EXTRACT FROM DEMOSTHENES. 


259 


ing the country’s resources. What alliance has t)eeu ever obtained 
for the state through your instrumentality? What succor? What 
acquisition of good-will from others, or credit for ourselves ? What 
embassy ? What public service tliat has added to our national re- 
nown ? What public affairs, whether domestic, Hellenic, or foreign, 
have been brought by you to a successful.issue ? What ships have 
you furnislied ? What arms? What dockyards ? What fortifica- 
tions? What cavalry? In what one respect have you been useful? 
What pecuniary contribution have you ever made upon public 
grounds for the benefit of either the rich or the poor ? None. 

You were not deterred by your poverty, but by your anxiety to do 
nothing opposed to the interests of those for whose benefit all your 
policy has been designed. But what are the occasions of your brill- 
iant displays, the exhibitiou of your youthful vigor ? When aught 
is to be spoken against your countrymen, then is your voice best 
tuned, then is your memory most accurate ; theu you act your part 
to perfection. * * * 

Every well-affected citizen, Athenians, (in such terms I am able to 
speak of myself least invidiously) is bound to possess two qualities: 
when in authority, the fixed resolve to maintain the honor and pre- 
eminence of his country; under all circumstances and at all times, 
loyalty. This Nature can command — to another power belong 
strength and success. By this spirit you find me to have been uni- 
formly actuated. 

Observe — never when I was demanded for extradition, nor when 
Amphictyoiiic suits were prosecuted against me, nor when threats, 
nor when promises were brought to bear upon me, nor when these 
miscreants were let loose like wild beasts upon me — never was I in- 
duced to abandon one jot or tittle of my loyalty to you. From first 
to last I took the straight and true path of statesmanship — that of 
complete devotion to the maintenance and furtherance of the honor, 
the power, and tlie glory of my country. Never was I beheld strut- 
ting about the Forum, radiant with joy and exultation at foreign 
success, gesticulating congratulations to those who might be expect- 
ed to report them elsewhere. Nor have I heard the tidings of our 
good fortune with dismay and lamentations, and prostration to the 
earth, like these impious men who inveigh against their country 
without perceiving that their invective is directed against them- 
selves, whose eyes are cast abroad, who felicitate themselves on 
foreign success purchased by the calamities of Greece, and avow 
their anxiety to secure its permanence. 

Never, O ye Heavenly Powers! never may such designs obtain 
favor at your hands ! Rather, if it be possible, inspire even these 
men with better thoughts, and turn their hearts ; but if their moral 
plague be incurable, cut them off from among us, and drive them 
forth to destruction, sure and swift, over laud and over sea: while 
to us who are spared ye vouchsafe the speediest deliverance from our 
mjpending alarms, and abiding security !” — Siu Robert Collier. 


260 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Twice after the reverse of Chaeronea Demosthenes suc- 
ceeded in arraying his country against Macedon — at the 
assassination of Philip and on the death of Alexander. 
When news of Alexander’s decease reached Greece, the or- 
ator was in exile, having been unjustly convicted of taking 
Macedonian treasure ; yet he did his utmost to arm the 
Grecian cities, and was in consequence recalled to Athens 
by the fickle people. But it was all in vain. 

At last, marked for destruction by the Macedonian regent 
Antip'ater, and doomed to death by his cowardly fellow- 
citizens whose necks were now under the tyrant’s heel, he 
fled to the temple of Neptune on Calaure'a and there found 
relief from his troubles in a quill of poison which he kept 
ready for an emergency. In Demosthenes, Athens lost an 
incorruptible patriot — antiquity, one of her noblest charac- 
ters. The Athenians erected to his memory a brazen statue 
on which was inscribed : — 

“ Had you for Greece been strong, as wise you were, 

The Macedonians had not conquered her.” 

.fflschines (389-314 B.C.), of whose early life little is known, 
after his defeat at the hands of Demosthenes, went into exile. 
We are told that his victorious rival magnanimously forgave 
him, and even offered him money for the journey ; which led 
^schines to exclaim : “ How I regret leaving a country 
where I have found an enemy so generous that I must de- 
spair of ever meeting with a friend who shall be like him !” 

^schines afterward established himself as a teacher of 
oratory in Rhodes. Here he once repeated to his pupils his 
famous oration against Ctesiphon in the contest for the crown, 
which filled them with wonder that so able an orator should 
have been defeated. But when at their request he read the 
reply of Demosthenes, his audience rose to their feet with 
eager acclamations ; and the orator, forgetting all jealousy in 


THE GOLDEN AGE 


261 


his admiration, cried : “ What would you have said, had you 
heard the wild beast himself roaring it out ?” 

The oration against Ctesiphon is one of three familiarly 
known in antiquity as “ the Three Graces ” — a title indicative 
of the refinement and easy flow of the author’s style, deficient 
as it was in the energy and vehemence of his great rival. 


MINOR DRAMATIC AND LYRIC POETS. 


Ion (flourished 450 B.C.) : a history and 
lyrics,, as well as tragedies ; called | 
“the Eastern Star,” from the first 
words of an ode he was composing 
when death overtook him. 

Ach^us (born 484 B.C.) : tragic and 
satirical pieces. 

Ag'athon the Athenian : received his 
first tragic prize, 416 B.C. ; his mas- 
terpiece was “ the Flower.” 

Callis'tratus (flourished 420 B.C.): 
author of the convivial ode celebrat- 


ing the memorj’^ of Harmodius and 
Aristogiton (p. 158). 

Ckati'nus (519-423 B.C.): called the 
Cup-lover from his excesses ; 21 com- 
edies; 9 prizes; with his last com- 
edy, “ the Wine - flask,” he gained 
the first prize, triumphing over “the 
Clouds” of Aristophanes. 

Eu'polis : 15 plays; his first comedy 
was represented 429 B.C. 

Crates (450 B.C.) : 14 comedies ; the 
first poet to represent drunkenness 
on the Athenian stage. 


Meton, the Athenian astronomer (flourished 430 B.C.) : founder of the Lunar 
Cycle of 19 solar years, which he discovered to be nearly equal to 235 revolu- 
tions of the moon round the earth. From the “ Metonic Cycle ” the Greeks 
computed their festivals; it is still used by the Western churches in fixing, 
Easter. 

Hippoc'rates (460-357 B.C.), born on the island of Cos, “ the Father of Medi- 
cine :” knew little of anatomy ; discovered the critical days in fevers. 


NOTES ON GREEK EDUCATION, ETC. 

Education recognized as all-important in ancient Greece, and even made com- 
pulsory by the great lawgivers. In Homer’s time, children taught obedience, 
respect for the aged, and modesty of deportment ; sons instructed in the use of 
weapons and gymnastic exercises ; daughters, in domestic economy and virtue. 
Homer’s epics long the chief text-books on all subjects. 

Reading and writing, accomplishments of the earliest periods. An ignorant 
Greek an anomaly. Even among the Spartans, who affected contempt for lit- 


262 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


erature, reading and writing were practised. The magistrates and their officers 
were provided with wooden cylinders of the same size; when one desired to 
communicate, he wound a strip of parchment round his cylinder and wrote his 
message thereon ; then, removing the strip, he sent it to the other party, w'ho 
was enabled to read it by rolling it upon his own cylinder in the same folds. 

In the golden age, common schools were the glory of Greece ; the rudiments 
of education everywhere taught. The importance of grammar urged by Plato, 
who was the first to explain the dilference between nouns and verbs ; articles and 
conjunctions distinguished by Aristotle, and also differences of number and case. 
The foundation of scientific grammar laid by the Stoics, who recognized eight 
parts of speech. Those who could afford it completed their education at the 
Lyceum, Academy, or some other celebrated school, often paying most extrava- 
gantly for instruction in rhetoric and philosophy. Some teachers charged their 
pupils as much as $2,000 apiece for a course of lectures. Foreign languages 
were never studied by the Greeks. 

Many private libraries were established during the golden age, but no circu- 
lating or public libraries. As early as 400 B.C. Athens carried on quite a trade 
in manuscripts, one quarter of the market-place being called ‘‘the book-mart.” 
Books were generally abundant and cheap, being copied by slaves, but rare 
works were very costly. Plato paid $1,600 for three books. {The reader is re- 
ferred to Becker's “ Charicles ; or, Illust7'aiions of the Private Life of the Ancient 
Gieeks.") 

Wooden tablets for accounts sold for 18 cts. each about 400 B.C. A small blanx 
book of two wax tablets was worth less than a penny. Pencils are said to have 
been invented 408 B.C. by Apollodorus, the self-styded “Prince of Painters.” 


CHAPTER VI. 

THE ALEXANDRIAN PERIOD. 

Decline of Letters. — The triumph of the Doric states over 
Athens in the Peloponnesian War (431-404 B.C.) gave the 
first blow to the intellectual power of Greece. Literary de- 
cay forthwith set in ; its progress was hastened by internal 
dissensions, and completed when liberty was hopelessly ex- 
tinguished by Philip of Macedon and his successors. 

Alexander indeed benefited the East by introducing the 
Greek language and culture, and building magnificent cities 
in return for her hordes of barbarians slain ; but his policy 


THE ALEXANDRIAN PERIOD. 


263 


left out of view the interests of Greece. While Athens re- 
mained the seminary of Europe for several centuries after his 
death, Alexandria, founded by him at the mouth of the Nile, 
became the intellectual as well as commercial capital of the 
world. From this city, the period we are about to consider 
derives its name. It extends from the death of Alexander 
the Great (323 B.C.) to the conquest of Egypt by the Romans 
(30 B.C.). 

The Alexandrian Age produced no grand masterpieces. 
No glorious struggle for freedom inspired the historian ; there 
was no further need for the efforts of the orator ; science and 
criticism flourished instead of poetry ; and a host of imitators 
usurped the place of the mighty originals of the olden time. 
The national taste had sadly deteriorated ; an affected ob- 
scurity was fashionable ; and gaudy tinsel was more highly 
valued than true gold. 

Yet one bright bloom gladdened this waste — Idyllic Poe- 
try, which expanded into a perfect flower in the hands of 
Theoc 'ritus the Sicilian. A new school of comedy was also 
established by Menander and Phile'mon ; and many seeds of 
Greek genius that Alexander had scattered broadcast over 
the earth sprung up on foreign soil, and yielded fruit — but 
fruit inferior to that ripened under its native sun. 

DRAMATIC POETRY. 

The New Comedy dealt with the follies and vices of society 
at large, not with individuals, the actor no longer venturing, 
since the downfall of political liberty, to imitate Aristophanes 
in representing living characters. Its simple plot was gener- 
ally based on some love-intrigue. Though the broad fun of 
the Old Comedy was wanting, quiet humor contrasted hap- 
pily with pathos, the grave with the gay; the audience, pro- 
voked by turns to laughter and to tears, were all the time 
learning some useful principle or moral lesson. Cicero styled 


264 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


the New Comedy “ the mirror of real life.” — The chorus now 
ceased to take part in the representation, and the play was 
divided into acts separated by intervals of time. 

Of the sixty-four poets associated by the ancients with the 
New Comedy, the greatest were Menander and Philemon, 
both citizens of Athens, though Philemon was foreign-born. 
Not until both had passed from the stage of life was the 
meed of superior excellence awarded to Menander. 

Menander (341-291 B.C.) dramatized love-stories for the 
young with elegance and dignity; while the undercurrent of 
wisdom that flowed through his plays recommended them to 
the old. Out of a hundred comedies of which he was the au- 
thor, only a few fragments are left ; but these Goethe pro- 
nounced “ invaluable.” So perfectly did he delineate char- 
acter that Aristophanes, the grammarian, asked whether Me- 
nander copied life, or life Menander. 

His talent early displayed itself, securing him a crown 
while he was yet a mere youth, but subjecting him to the dis- 
pleasure of his defeated rivals, who accused him of presump- 
tion in vying with experienced puers. Menander replied to 
the charge by appearing on tne stage with an armful ot new- 
born puppies, which he cast into a tub of water. Bidding the 
audience mark how they swam, he exclaimed : “ You ask me, 
Athenians, how at my years I can have the knowledge of life 
required in the dramatist ; I ask you under what master and 
in what school these creatures learned to swim ?” 

Despite his superior merit, however, Menander obtained 
the dramatic prize but eight times, owing to the greater influ- 
ence of his rival Philemon with the masses. It is stated that 
this injustice at length led the poet to drown himself. His 
plays long served as models to the comic stage. The Ro- 
mans, Plautus and Terence, helped themselves freely from his 
treasury, and through their dramas our modern comedy may 
be traced back to Menander himself. 


DRAMATISTS OF THE ALEXANDRIAN AGE. 


266 


FRAGMENTS FROM MENANDER. 

When thou wouhVst know thyself, what man thou art, 
Look at the tombstones as thou passest by : 

Within those monuments lie bones and dust 
Of monarchs, tyrants, sages, men whose pride 
Rose high because of wealth, or noble blood, 

Or haughty soul, or loveliness of limb ; 

Yet none of these things strove for them ’gainst time : 
One common death hath ta’en all mortal men. 

See thou to this, and know thee who thou art.” 

Symonds. 


“ The sum of all philosophy is this — 

Thou art a man, than whom there breathes no creature 
More liable to sudden rise and fall.” 

‘‘ Of all bad things with wdiich mankind are cursed, 

Their own bad tempers surely are the worst.” 

^‘The maxim ‘ Know thyself’ does not sufiSce; 

Know others! — know them well — that’s my advice.” 

t 

Philemon exhibited the first of his ninety-seven comedies 
when Menander was a boy of eleven. Nine years later Me- 
nander’s first piece appeared, and the rivalry between the 
poets began. In their subsequent contests, Philemon some- 
times stooped to unworthy means to defeat his opponent ; 
still, that his countrymen really admired him is evident from 
the legend current of his death. As he was concluding a 
comedy in his ninety-ninth year, nine beautiful maidens were 
said to have entered his chamber and beckoned him away. 
They were the Muses, about to wing their flight from Athens 
forever, and with them departed the soul of Philemon — the 
last of the Athenian poets. 

FRAGMENTS FROM PHILEMON. 

“Have faith in God, and fear ; seek not to know him, 

For thou wilt gain naught else beyond thy search : 

Whether he is or is not,‘shun to ask : 

As one who is, and sees thee, always fear him.” 


2GC GRECIAN LITERATURE. 

All are not just because they do no wrong, 

But he who will not wrong me wheu he may, 

He is the truly just. I praise not them 
Who, in their petty dealings, pilfer not ; 

But him whose conscience spurns a secret fraud, 

When he might plunder and defy surprise. 

His be the praise who, looking down with scorn 
On the false judgment of the partial herd, 

Consults his own clear heart, and boldly dares 
To be, not to be thought, an honest man.” 

PASTORAL POETRY. 

Theocritus (flourished 283-263 B.C.). — The pastoral, or 
bucolic, poetry of the Greeks, which originated in the rude 
songs of Laconian and Sicilian shepherds, was matured and ele- 
vated into a new department of polite composition in the idyls 
of Theocritus. Born in Sicily, as he tells us in an epigram 
intended to preface his works, he was tempted to the court of 
Ptolemy Philadelphus. Here his refreshing pictures of rural 
scenery were the delight of the Alexandrians, shut in*by the 
walls of their city from the beauties of nature. Theocritus 
eventually returned to Sicily, and ended his days amid his na- 
tive fields. {Symonds's ^'•Studies of the Greek Poets f p. 302.) 

The poetry of Theocritus exhibits originality and refine- 
ment, the Doric dialect in which he wrote lending the charm 
of picturesqueness to his descriptions. Pope commends him 
for simplicity and truthfulness to nature ; Dryden, for “ the 
inimitable tenderness of his passions” and the skill with 
which he disguised his art. As a delineator of natural scen- 
ery, he has no superior among ancient or modern poets. — 
There are extant thirty idyls and twenty-two epigrams of 
this poet. We present below Idyl VIII. 

THE TRIUMPH OF DAPHNIS. 

“ Daplinis, the gentle herdsman, met once, as rumor tells, 

Menalcas making with his flock the circle of the fells. [play ; 
Both chins were gilt with coming beards, both lads could sing and 
Menalcas glanced at Daplinis, and thus was heard to say: 


EXTRACT FROM THEOCRITUS. 


267 


‘Art thou for singing, Dapliiiis, lord of the lowing kine? 

I say my songs are better, by what thou wilt, than thine.’ 
Then in his turn spake Daphuis, and thus he made reply : 

‘ O shepherd of the fleecy flock, thou pipest clear and high ; 
But come Avhat will, Menalcas, thou ne’er wilt sing as I.’ 


Menalcas. 

This art thou fain to ascertain, and risk a bet with me? 

Daphnis. 

This I full fain would ascertain, and risk a bet with thee. 

Menalcas. 

But what, for champions such as we, would seem a fitting prize ? 

Daphnis. 

I stake a calf: stake thou a lamb, its mother’s self iu size. 

Menalcas. 

A lamb Til venture never: for aye, at close of day. 

Father and mother count the flock, and passing strict are they. 

Daphnis. 

Then what shall be the victor’s fee ? What wager wilt thou lay ? 

Menalcas. 

A pipe discoursing through nine months I made, full fair to view; 
The wax is white thereon, the line of this and that edge true. 

I’ll risk it : risk my father’s own is more than I dare do. 

Daphnis. 

A pipe discoursing through nine months, and fair, hath Daphnis too; 
The wax is white tliereon, the line of this and that edge true. 

But yesterday I made it : this finger feels the pain 

Still, where indeed the rifted reed hath cut it clean in twain. 

But who shall be our umpire ? who listen to our strain ? 

Menalcas. 

Suppose we hail yon goatherd ; him at whose horned herd now 
The dog is barking — yonder dog with white upon his brow. 

Then out they called: the goatherd marked them, and u]) came he; 
Then out they sang; the goatherd their umpire fain would be. 

To shrill Menalcas’ lot it fell to start the woodland lay : 

Then Daphnis took it up. And thus Menalcas led the way. 


268 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Menalcas. 

Ye god-created vales and streams ! Oh ! if Menalcas e’er 
Piped aught of pleasant music in your ears ; 

Then pasture, nothing loath, his lambs ; and let young Daphnis fare 
No worse, should he stray hither with his steers. 

Daphnis. 

Ye joy-abounding lawns and springs ! If Daphnis sang you e’er 
Such songs as ne’er from nightingale have flowed; 

Lend to his herd your fatness.; and let Menalcas share 
Like plenty, should he wend along this road. 

Menalcas. 

’Tis springtide all and greenness, and all the udders teem 
With milk, and all things young hav^e life anew. 

Where my sweet maiden wanders : but parched and withered seem, 
When she departeth, lawn and shepherd too. 

Daphnis. 

There sheep and goats twin-burdened abound, and honey-bees 
Peopling the hives, and oaks of statelier growth. 

Where falls my darling’s footstep : but hungriness shall seize. 

When she departeth, herd and herdsman both. 

Menalcas. 

Storms are the fruit-tree’s bane; the brook’s, a summer hot and diy ! 

The stag’s, a woven net ; a gin, the dove’s ; 

Mankind’s, a soft sweet maiden. Others have pined ere I : 

Zeus! Father! hast not thou thy lady-loves? 

Thus far, in alternating strains, the lads their woes rehearsed : 

Then each one gave a closing stave. Thus sang Menalcas first : ~ 

Menalcas. 

O spare, good wolf, my weanlings ! their milky mothers spare 1 
Harm not the little lad who hath so many in his care ! 

What, Firefly, is thy sleep so deep ? It ill befits a hound. 

When ranging with his master, to slumber over-sound. 

And, wethers, of this tender grass take, nothing coy, your fill : 

So, when the after-math* shall come, will none be weak or ill. 

So ! so! feed on, that ye be full, that not an udder fail : 

Part of the milk shall rear the lambs, and part shall fill my paiL 

Then Daphnis flung a carol out, as of a nightingale : — 


* Second crop of grass. 


, PASTORAL POETRY. 


269 


Daphnis. 

Me from her grot but yesterday a girl of haughty brow 
Spied as I passed her with my kine, and said, ‘ How fair art thouT 
I gave for answer not so much as one disdainful word, 

But, looking ever on the ground, paced onward with my herd. 

For sweet the heifer’s music, and sweet the heifer’s breath ; 

Sweet things to me the youngling calf, sweet things her mother saith ; 
And sweet is sleep by summer brooks upon the breezy lea : 

And acorns they grace well the oak, apples the apple-tree, 

Her calves the cow : the herdsman, but for his herd cares he. 

So sang the lads ; and thereupon out spake the referee : — 

Goatherd. 

O Daphnis ! lovely is thy voice, thy music sweetly sung; 

Such song is pleasanter to me than honey on my tongue. 

Accept this pipe, for thou hast won. And, should there be some notes 
That thou couldst teach me, as I plod alongside with my goats ; 

I’ll give thee for thy schooling this ewe, that horns hath none : 

Day after day she’ll fill the can, until the milk o’errnn. 

Then how the one lad laughed, and leaped, and clapped his hands 
for glee ! 

A kid that bounds to meet its dam might dance as merrily. 

And how the other inly burned, struck down by his disgrace! 

A maid first parting from her home might wear as sad a face. 

Thenceforth was Daphnis champion of all the country side: 

And won, while yet in topmost youth, a Naiad for his bride.” 

C. S. Calverley. 

Bion of Smyrna,, a contemporary of Theocritus, emigrated 
to Sicily for the purpose of studying pastoral poetry in its na- 
tive haunts. What little we know respecting his life is gath- 
ered from the elegy written by his pupil, the delicate and 
graceful Moschus, a bucolic poet of Syracuse ranked with 
Theocritus and Bion, but inferior to both. “ The Lament for 
Bion ” intimates that he died from the effects of poison, ad- 
ministered perhaps by jealous rivals. 

Bion’s love-songs and pastorals are characterized by sweet- 
ness and finish ; they are less life-like, however, than those of 
Theocritus. The “ Lament for Adonis ” is the poet’s best 


270 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


effort ; but as it is uninteresting to the general reader, we give 
a free paraphrase of 

THE BIRD-CATCHER AND LOVE. 

A young bird-catcher sat ’neath a wide-spreading tree. 

Where the breath of the summer breeze sported free, 

Looking round on the neighboring bushes with care, 

To see if a songster were lingering there. 

At length, in the distance, he something espies — 

A creature with wings of unusual size — 

“ Aha ! what a treasure !” he joyously cries ; 

‘‘ To catch such a bird would indeed be a prize!” 

And then sets to work with his rods all together. 

To take the huge bird without spoiling a feather. 

But the creature, alarmed, from its perch quickly flew ; 

^ - The boy, all excited, still kept it in view 

Till it lit on a box-tree — then followed his prey ; 

Alas ! with a cry, it again flew away. 

At length he grew tired of this profitless chase, 

And turned toward his home with a wearisome pace. 

But ere long, on the road, an old farmer he met. 

Who had taught him his snares for the songsters to set. 

And he told how the bird all his skill had evaded. 

And to go see this wonder the farmer persuaded. 

At length they drew near; in a thicket of trees. 

Whose tops gently waved in the murmuring breeze, 

On a dwarf laurel-bush, on the verge of the grove, 

In beauty bewitching, there sat errant Love ! 

His pinions hung prettily down by his side, 

And his features, the Cyprian goddess’s pride. 

Were as lovely as ever, more roguish by half. 

For he scarce could refrain from a boisterous laugh. 

And as soon as he saw him, the husbandman, smiling, 

Knew at once the young Love-god the boy was beguiling. 

Then said he to the boy : “ Quick, away from this grove 5 
The bird thou art seeking is mischievous Love ! 

Though brilliant his hues as the butterfly’s wings. 

And melody dwells on the strain that he sings, 

% Yet a dangerous prize to the cateher he’ll prove. 

Then away with thy birdlime, nor follow this Love ! 

When he flies, seize thy ehance and escape if thou can. 

For in vaiu wilt thou shun him when grown to a man. 

Then thou’lt be the bird — he, the catcher, ’ll pursue thee; 
Though now he evades, then he’ll quickly fly to thee.” 


EXTRACTS FROM BION AND MOSCIIUS. 


271 


LINES TO HESPER. 

Hesper, thou golden light of happy love, 

Hesper, thou holy pride of purple eve, 

Moon among stars, but star beside the moon. 

Hail, friend ! and since the young moon sets to-night 
Too soon below the mountains, lend thy lamp 
And guide me to the shepherd whom I love. 

No theft I purpose ; no wayfaring man 
Belated would I watch and make my prey ; 

Love is my goal, and Love how fair it is. 

When friend meets friend sole in the silent night. 
Thou knowest, Hesper!” — Symonds. 


FROM MOSCHUS’S LAMENT FOR BION. 

Ye mountain valleys, pitifully groan ! 

Rivers and Dorian springs, for Bion weep ! 

Ye plants, drop tears ; ye groves, lamenting moan ! 
Exhale your life, wan flowers; your blushes deep 
111 grief, anemonies and roses, steep ; 

In whimpering murmurs, hyacinth ! prolong 
The sad, sad woe thy lettered petals keep ; 

Our minstrel sings no more his friends among — 
Sicilian Muses ! now begin the doleful song. 

Ye nightingales! that ’mid thick leaves set loose 
The gushing gurgle of your sorrow, tell 
The fountains of Sicilian Arethuse 
That Bion is no more ; with Bion fell 
The song — the music of the Dorian shell. 

Ye swans of Strj’^mon ! now your banks along 
Your plaintive throats with melting dirges swell, 
For him who sang like you the mournful song; 
Discourse of Bion’s death the Thracian nymphs among — 

The Dorian Orpheus, tell them all, is dead. 

His herds the song and darling herdsman miss. 

And oaks, beneath whose shade he propped his head. 
Oblivion’s ditty now he sings for Dis ; 

The melancholy mountain silent is ; 

■ His pining cows no longer wish to feed, 

But moan for him ; Apollo wept, I wis. 

For thee, sweet Bion ! and in mourning weed 
The brotherhood of Fauns and all the Satyr breed. 


272 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


The tears by Naiads shed are brimful bourns; 

Afflicted Pan thy stifled music rues ; 

Lorn Echo ’mid her rocks thy silence mourns, 

Nor with her mimic tones thy voice renews ; 

The flowers their bloom, the trees their fruitage lose ; 

No more their milk the drooping ewes supply ; 

The bees to press their honey now refuse ; 

What need to gather it and lay it by. 

When thy own honey-lip, my Bion ! thine is dry 

Chapman. 

The Museum. — While the Muses who fled w'ith the spirit of 
Philemon were never induced to return to Hellas, in the East 
the Greek mind, stimulated by the architectural wonders, the 
new religious systems, the proficiency in many departments 
of knowledge, which it encountered, entered upon a new phase 
of development. Alexandria witnessed its proudest achieve- 
ments in science. 

This city was embellished with temples and palaces, with 
parks, fountains, and monuments, until it eclipsed in beauty 
all others of its time. Our interest, however, centres in its 
marble Museum, or Temple of the Muses, begun by the first 
Ptolemy and finished by his son Philadelphus, which sent forth 
the greatest scientists of antiquity. In its halls, those hunger- 
ing for knowledge were more than satisfied ; up and down its 
corridors the professors walked as they gave instruction ; while 
its botanical and zoological gardens afibrded opportunities for 
delightful relaxation. An observatory and the best astronom- 
ical instruments of the day invited to the study of the heavens, 
and a dissecting-room was at the disposal of the anatomist. 
Chemical investigations were facilitated by a laboratory, where 
thus early the science of alchemy was born, and Philadelphus 
himself eagerly experimented in search of the elixir of life. 
To this brilliant centre of letters, the first university in the 
world, learned men were attracted from all quarters. At one 
time, 14,000 students were under instruction. 

The Alexandrian Library.— The Museum was the seat of a 


THE LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA. 


273 


great library, collected in accordance with Ptolemy’s command 
that all the writings of the earth should be brought to Egypt 
to be transcribed. But once there, the originals seldom parted 
company with the pictures and statues in Ptolemy’s sculptured 
alcoves, the owners being obliged to content themselves with 
fac-similes of their treasured rolls made by the royal copyists. 



Greeks of the Aeexandrian Period. 


The Egyptian kings often paid roundly for valuable manu- 
scripts. It is stated that Philadelphus borrowed at Athens 
the plays of Euripides to have them copied for his library, 
depositing about $ 10,000 as security for their return. But 
when the work was done, he sent back the transcript, prefer- 
ring to lose his money rather than part with the originals. 

M 


274 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Philadelphus left 100,000 volumes in the library. These 
quadrupled after his death, and filled the Museum to over- 
flowing, so that in the Temple of Sera'pis was opened “ the 
Daughter Library” for the reception of additional volumes. 
The number of these ultimately reached 300,000, making 
700,000 in all. 

When, after the assassination of Pompey, Caesar fired Alex- 
andria (47 B.C.), the flames enwrapped the Museum, and its 
library perished. Antony subsequently gave Cleopatra the 
Pergamene Collection of parchment books (see p. 24), which, 
with his kingdom, Attains III. had bequeathed to the Romans 
(133 B.C.). This, added to the rolls in the Temple of Sera- 
pis, formed at once an extensive library. It was increased 
by constant additions, but in the end served as fuel for the 
four thousand baths of the city, when Alexandria fell before 
the Mohammedan arms (640 A.D.), and the bigoted caliph 
decided that “ if the Greek writings agreed with the Koran, 
they were useless and need not be preserved; if they dis- 
agreed, they were pernicious and ought to be destroyed.” 

POETRY AT ALEXANDRIA. 

The first school of poetry at Alexandria was founded by 
Phile'tas (330-285 B.C.), the elegiac writer, so dwarfish and 
emaciated that the jesters of his time declared he h^d to 
wear leaden shoes to keep the wind from blowing him away. 
Philetas was the instructor of Theocritus. But the greatest 
names associated with the Museum are those of Callim'achus 
and Apollonius Rhodius. 

Callimachus (250 B.C.) shines not only as a lyric and epic 
poet, but also as a critic and grammarian. From the position 
of a suburban schoolmaster he rose to that of librarian at the 
Museum, and made himself “ the literary dictator and univer- 
sal genius of his age.” 

Callimachus exercised his talents in all the departments of 


APOLLONIUS RHODIUS. 


275 


poetry, and wrote as well in prose. His works reached the 
number of 800 ; which is not to be wondered at when we re- 
member his remark, “A great book is a great evil.” Such of 
his hymns and epigrams as time has spared, bear the marks 
of study rather than genius. 

Apollonius, called Rhodius from his long residence in 
Rhodes, was born at Alexandria, and studied under Cal- 
limachus. But the master grew jealous of his pupil, and a 
quarrel arose between them. When, at the instigation of 
Callimachus, his epic poem on the Argonautic Expedition 
was unfavorably received by the Alexandrians, Apollonius, in 
his mortification, left the city and opened a school of rhetoric 
in Rhodes. Here he revised his poem, and became justly 
renowned for his brilliant attainments. After the death of 
Callimachus, he was recalled to Alexandria, read his epic a 
second time to the people, and had the satisfaction of receiv- 
ing their warmest commendations with the honorable office 
of librarian (194 B.C.). ' ; . 

The “ Argonautica,” in four books, is all that is left of his 
works. We take from it the passage which describes the 
impression made on Medea by Jason, the leader of the ex- 
pedition ; compare the history of Medea as sketched in 
connection with the play of Euripides bearing her name, 
page 210. 

MEDEA IN LOVE. 

“ Thus Medea went, her soul absorbed 
In many rnusiugs, such as love incites, 

Thoughts of deep care. Now all remembered things 
In apparition rose before her eyes : 

What was his aspect; what the robe he wore ; 

What words he uttered; in what posture placed, 

He on the couch reclined ; and with what air 
He from the porch passed forth. Then red the blush 
Burned on her cheek ; while iu her soul she thought 
No other man existed like to him : 

His voice was murmuring in her ears, and all 
The charming words he uttered. Now, disturbed, 


276 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


She trembled for his life ; lest the fierce bulls, 

Or lest ^e'tes should, himself, destroy 

The man she loved."^ And she bewailed him now 

As if already dead ; and down her cheeks, 

In deep commiseration, the soft tear 

Flowed anxiously. With piercing tone of grief 

Her voice found utterance : ‘Why, unhappy one! 

Am I thus wretched ? What concerns it me. 
Whether this paragon of heroes die 
The death, or fiee discomfited ? And yet 
He should unharmed depart. Dread Hecate! 

Be it thy pleasure ! let him homeward i)ass, 

And ’scape his threatened fate ; or, if his fate ‘ 
Beneath the bulls have destined him to fall. 

First let him know that in his wretched end 
Medea does not glory.’ So disturbed. 

Mused the sad virgin in her anguished thoughts.” 

Elton. 


PROSE WRITERS. 

Science. — The influence of the Alexandrian university in 
shaping modern science was all-potential. Among its orna- 
ments are numbered the mathematicians Euclid and Ar- 
chime'des, the astronomer Eratos'thenes, Hero the inventor 
of a steam-engine, and Ctesibius who devised water-clocks, 
pumps, and other ingenious machines. 

Euclid (300 B.C.) compressed in one volume all the geo- 
metrical knowledge extant, adding several original theorems. 
His “Elements” has been translated into many languages, 
and though it has attained the venerable age of 2,200 years, 
its clear demonstrations are still standards in our schools. 

Archimedes was educated in Alexandria, but afterward 
lived in Syracuse, where his mathematical genius challenged 
the admiration of the world. In geometry and mechanics he 
was the master-mind of antiquity ; and until the star of New- 
ton rose twenty centuries after, Europe saw not his equal. 


. * An allusion to the hostility of .®etes, Medea’s father, and his fire-breathing 
bulls, which Jason was required to tame before he could get possession of the 
Golden Fleece. 


PROSE OF THE ALEXANDRIAN AGE. 277 

Many important discoveries in physical science are due to 
Archimedes,— the principle of the lever, which led him to 
exclaim, “ Give me a place to stand on, and I will move the 
world the process of finding the specific gravity of bodies ; 
the hydraulic screw and the pulley. Of his many mathemat- 
ical works, written in Doric Greek, eight survive. 

Eratosthenes (276-196 B.C.) was the founder of geodesy 
and chronology, as well as a proficient in astronomy, gram- 
mar, and poetry. The ancients styled him Fentathlos {quin- 
tuple athlete ) ; also, from his determining the magnitude of 
the earth, “Measurer of the Universe.” His most important 
works are “Chronographies,” and geographical and math- 
ematical writings. 

Hipparchus (150 B.C.), an astronomer of the Alexandrian 
age, deserves mention as the inventor of the planisphere and 
as the first to make a catalogue of the stars. He devised the 
method of locating places by latitude and longitude. 

Grammar. — The Museum was especially eminent as a 
school of grammar and criticism, the principal occupation of 
its scholars being the revision and correction of the texts of 
the old authors. 

The most distinguished of the Alexandrian critics were — 
Zenod'otus, the first librarian and critical editor of Homer’s 
epics ; Aristophanes of Byzantium, his pupil (200 B.C.), 
the inventor of Greek accents and punctuation ; Aristar- 
chus (156 B.C.), “the arch - grammarian of Greece,” who 
divided Homer’s poems into books, revised the Alexandrian 
canon, and was the author of 800 commentaries ; and Cra- 
tes, head of a grammatical school at Pergamus, and the first 
to make grammar a popular study at Rome. 

History. — Polybius (204-122 B.C.) was the chief historian 
of the Alexandrian age. Brought to Rome a prisoner after 
the battle of Pydna (168 B.C.), in which the king of Macedon' 
was overthrown by Paulus ^Emilius, he became the intimate 


•278 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


friend of Scipio Afficanus the Younger. Seventeen years 
elapsed before Polybius was permitted, to return to Greece. 
Then he went back the firm friend of the Romans ; and had 
his countrymen heeded his counsels, the sack of Corinth 
might have been averted and Greece might have preserved 
her independence. So, at least, declared the inscription on 
his statue : “ Hellas would have been saved had she followed 
the advice of Polybius.” 

Polybius accompanied Scipio in several of his campaigns, 
and saw Carthage burned to the ground. In his travels, 
which were varied and extensive, he stored his mind with 
useful information for his “Universal History,” the grand 
work of his life. Its forty books impartially narrated the 
history of Rome and the contemporary nations between the 
years 220 and 146 B.C., but in a style devoid of attractions. 
Polybius, as Macaulay said, lacked “ the art of telling a story 
in an interesting manner.” The first five books of his work, 
and a few fragments of the others, have been preserved. 

As all eyes have recently been turned on Constantinople, 
whose important situation has long made its acquisition the 
traditional policy of Russia, it may not be uninteresting to 
present the view which Polybius takes of this ancient city, 
then known as 


BYZANTIUM. 

“ Byzantium, of all the cities in the world, is the most happy in 
its situation with respect to the sea, being not only secure on that 
side from all enemies, but possessed also of the means of obtaining 
every kind of necessaries in the greatest plenty. But with respect 
to the laud, there is scarcely any place that has so little claim to 
these advantages. 

With regard to the sea, the Byzantines, standing close upon the 
entrance of the Enxine, command so absolutely all that passage that 
it is not possible for any merchant to sail through it, or return, with- 
out their permission ; and hence they are the masters of all those 
commodities which are drawn in various kinds from the countries 
that lie round this sea, to satisfy the wants or conveniences of other 
men. For among the things that are necessary for use, they supply 


HISTORIANS OF THE ALEXANDRIAN AGE. 


279 


the Greeks with leather, and with great numbers of very serviceable 
slaves. And with regard to those that are esteemed conveniences, 
they send honey and wax, with all kinds of seasoned and salted 
meats ; taking from us in exchange our own superfluous commodi- 
ties, oil and every sort of wine. They sometimes also furnish ns 
with corn, and sometimes receive it from us, as the w^auts of either 
may require. 

Now it is certain that the Greeks must either be excluded wholly 
from this commerce, or be deprived at least of all its chief advan - 
tages, if ever the Byzantines should engage in any ill designs against 
them. For as well by reason of the extreme narrowness of the pas- 
sage as from the numbers of barbarians that are settled around it, 
we should never be able to gain an entrance through it into the 
Euxine. 

Though the Byzantines, therefore, are themselves possessed of the 
first and best advantages of this happy situation, which enables 
them to make both an easy and a profitable exchange of their super- 
fluous commodities, and to procure in return, without any pain or 
danger, whatever their own lands fail to furnish ; yet since, through 
• their means chiefly, other countries also are enabled to obtain many 
things that are of the greatest use, it seems reasonable that they 
should always be regarded by the Greeks as common benefactors, 
and receive not only favor and acknowledgments, but assistance 
likewise to repel all attempts that may be made against them by 
their barbarous neighbors. 

And with these barbarous tribes they are involved in constant 
w'ar. For when they have taken great pains to cultivate their 
lands, which are by nature very fertile, and the rich fruits stand 
ready to repay their labors, on a sudden the barbarians, pouring 
down, destroy one part and carry away the rest; and leave to the 
Byzantines, after all their cost and toil, only the pain of beholding 
their best harvests wasted, while their beauty aggravates the grief, 
and renders the sense of their calamity more sharp and insupport- 
able.” — Hampton. 

Man'etho in Egypt, Bero'sus at Babylon, and Tima:us in 
Sicily, wrote the annals of their several countries. 

The Septuagint. — Finally, to the Museum we owe the 
Septuagint (p. 104), or Greek version of the Old Testament, 
made by learned Jews employed by Ptolemy. The Jews no 
longer spoke the ancient Hebrew with fluency, and their 
version in various parts betrays an imperfect knowledge of 
the original. The Septuagint served as a basis for transla- 
tions into many different tongues. 


280 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


THE SEVEN PLEIADES. 


Theocritits : the idyl -writer. 
Callimachus : poet, grammarian, etc. 
Lyc'ophron, the Obscure: author of 
“ Cassandra,” “ the dark poem,” and 
64 tragedies. 

Apollonius Rhodius. 

Homer the Younger. 


Ara'tus: author of a popular astro- 
nomical poem; from him St. Paul 
quoted the expression with reference 
to the Deity, “ in whom we live, and 
move, and have our being.” 

Nicander, a physician : two didactic 
medical poems on poisons and their 
antidotes. 


Eupho'rion, author of three heroic poems and a celebrated grammar — Apol- 
LODORus, the didactic poet — and Melea'ger the Exquisite, flourished in the 
Alexandrian age. Meleager’s “ Garland ” was the first anthology, or collection 
of epigrams. An'yte of Arcadia, “ the female Homer,” and Nossis, the Locrian 
poetess (300 B.C.), wrote epigrams. Cleanthes, the persevering disciple of Zeno 
(300-220 B.C.), composed moral treatises and a hymn to Jupiter full of lofty sen- 
timents. 


CHAPTER VII. 

LATER GREEK LITERATURE. 

Extinction of Greek Genius. — The long period which now 
engages our attention is marked by a further decline, and the 
ultimate extinction of letters. Roman despotism was inimical 
to literature ; Greece lay prostrate and broken-spirited ; night 
was fast settling down on the world. Poetry, a faint shadow 
of its former self, appeared principally in epigrams. The 
prose of the early Christian centuries exhibits some excep- 
tional gleams, but they are only the flickerings of a dying 
flame. 

About the Christian Era is gathered a group of geograph- 
ical and historical writers with Stra'bo, Diodo'rus Sic'ulus, 
and Dionysius of Halicarnassus as the prominent figures. 


ABOUT THE CHRISTIAX ERA. 


281 


The first century after Christ presents to us the authors of 
the New Testament; Clement of Rome, an eminent authority 
with the early Christians ; and Josephus, the Jewish historian, 
all of whom wrote in Greek. Plutarch, the eminent biogra- 
pher, born about 50 A.D., lived through the first twenty years 
of the second century, which was also adorned with the names 
of Lucian and Pausanias the geographer. In the third cen- 
tury flourished Longi'nus, the greatest rhetorician of this later 
age ; while the writings of the Christian fathers extend over a 
period of several hundred years, from the time of Clement 
just named. 

After the fall of Rome (476 A.D.), Constantinople became 
the sole centre of letters, and there for nearly a thousand 
years they languished. After Mahomet II. carried the city 
by storm in 1453, the native scholars dispersed over Europe, 
and by awakening an interest in classical studies contributed 
not a little to the revival of letters. 

THE FIRST CENTURY BEFORE CHRIST. 

Diodorus Siculus {the Sicilian) was the author of “ the His- 
torical Library,” which cost him thirty years of labor. Un- 
folding the story of the human race from remote antiquity to 
the time of Julius Caesar, his work contains much valuable 
information. 

Dionysius of Halicarnassus. — The longest production of 
this writer is his “Roman Antiquities,” a history of Rome 
prior to the Punic wars, pervaded by an evident partiality for 
Greece and her institutions. Dionysius was also a rhetorician 
of the highest rank, as his critical essays on the eloquence 
of Demosthenes, the style of Thucydides, and other subjects, 
testify. 

Strabo, of Pontus in Asia Minor, must be remembered in 
connection with his “Geography,” still extant, an interesting 

work in seventeen books, for which he prepared himself by 

31 2 


282 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


travels in Asia, Africa, and Europe. It is not a mere tissue 
of names and statistics, but is lighted up with sketches of so- 
cial life, pleasant stories, and epitomes of political history, 
thus entertaining at the same time that it instructs. 

What this lively writer records of India may interest the 
reader : — 

THE WONDERS OF INDIA. 

“ Between the Hydaspes and the Acesi'nes is the country of Porns, 
an extensive and fertile district, containing nearly three hundred 
cities. Here also is the forest in which Alexander cut down a large 
quantity of fir, pine, cedar, and a variety of other trees tit for ship- 
building, and brought the timber down the Hydaspes. With this he 
constructed a fleet near the cities which he built on each side of the 
river, where he had crossed it and conquered Porus. One of these 
cities he called Bncephalia, from the horse Bucephalus, which was 
killed in the battle with Porus. The name Bucephalus {ox-headed) 
was given to the animal from the breadth of his forehead. 

In the forest before mentioned it is said there is a vast number of 
monkeys, as large as they are numerous. On one occasion the Mace- 
donians, seeing a body of them standing in array on some bare emi- 
nences, prepared to attack them as real enemies. 

The chase of this animal is conducted in two different ways. The 
hunters, when they perceive a monkey seated on a tree, place in 
sight a basin containing water, with which they wash their own 
eyes ; then, instead of water, they put a basin of bird-lime, go away, 
and lie in wait at a distance. The animal, being an imitative creat- 
ure, leaps down, and besmears itself with the bird-lime, and when it 
winks, the eyelids are fastened together. The hunters then come 
upon it, and take it. The other method of capturing them is as fol- 
lows : the hunters dress themselves in bags like trousers and go 
away, leaving behind them others which are downy, with the inside 
smeared over with bird-lime. The monkeys put them on, and are 
easily taken. 

A very singular usage is related of the high estimation in which 
the inhabitants of Cathaia (the tract between the Hydaspes and 
Acesines) hold the quality of beauty. They elect the handsomest 
person as king. A child, two months after birth, undergoes a public 
inspection. They determine whether it has the amount of beauty 
required by law. The presiding magistrate then pronounces wheth- 
er it is to be allowed to live, or to be put to death. The bride and 
the Inisband are respectively the choice of each other, and the wives, 
it is related, burn themselves with their deceased husbands. The 
reason assigned for this pi-actice is, that the women sometimes fell 
in love with young men, and deserted or poisoned their husbands. 


EXTRACT FROM STRABO. 


283 


This law was therefore established iu order to check the practice of 
administering poison; hut neither the existence nor the origin of 
the law is probable. 

The dogs iu this territory are said to possess remarkable courage. 
Alexander received from Sopeithes, the monarch, a present of one hun- 
dred and fifty of them. To prove them, two were set at a lion ; when 
these were mastered, two others were set on ; when the battle be- 
came equal, Sopeithes ordered a man to seize one of the dogs by the 
leg, and to drag him away ; or to cut off his leg, if he still held on. 
Alexander at first refused his consent to the dog’s leg being cut off, 
as he wished to save the dog. But on Sopeithes saying, ‘ I will give 
you four in the place of it,’ Alexander consented; and he saw the dog 
permit his leg to be cut off by a slow incision rather than loose his 
hold. 

Nearchus is surprised at the multitude and the noxious nature of 
the reptiles. They retreat from the plains to the settlements at the 
period of inundations, and fill the houses. For this reason the inhab- 
itants raise their beds from the ground, and are sometimes compelled 
to abandon their dwellings. Charmers go about the country, and 
are supposed to cure wounds made by serpents. This seems to com- 
prise nearly their whole art of medicine, for disease is not frequent 
among them, owing to their frugal manner of life, and to the absence 
of wine. Whenever diseases do occur, thej^ are treated by the Soph- 
ists (wise 'tnen). 

All the Indians are frugal in their mode of life, and are happy on 
account of their simple manners. They never drink wine but at sac- 
rifices. Their beverage is made from rice instead of barley, and their 
food consists for the most part of rice ]>otrage. The simplicity of 
their laws appears from their having few lawsuits. Theft is very 
rare among them. Their houses and xiroperty are unguarded. These 
things denote temperance and sobriety. Others of their customs no 
one would approve ; as their eating always alone, and their not hav- 
ing all of them one common hour for their meals, but each taking 
food as he likes. As an exercise of the body they prefer friction in 
various ways, but particularly by making use of smooth sticks of 
ebony, which they pass over the surface of the skin. They marry 
many wives, who are purchased from their parents, and give in ex- 
change for them a voke of oxen. 

Megasthenes divides the philosophers into two kinds, the Brah- 
mans and the Gainianes. The Brahmans are held in greater repute. 
They do not communicate their philosophy to their wives, for fear 
they should divulge to the profane anything which ought to be con- 
cealed. They discourse much on death, and discipline themselves to 
prei)are for it. According to the Brahmans, the world was created 
and is liable to corruption ; it is of a spheroidal figure; the god who 


284 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


made aud governs it, pervades the whole of it ; the earth is situated 
in the centre of the universe. Many other peculiar things they say 
of the principles of generation and of the soul. They invent fables 
also, after the manner of Plato, on immortality and on the punish- 
ment in Hades ; and other things of this kind.” — Falconer. 

THE FIRST THREE CHRISTIAN CENTURIES. 

Josephus, born A.D. 37 at Jerusalem, was the scion of a 
noble line. At the early age of fourteen he astonished the 
chief priests by his mental power and familiarity with the in- 
tricacies of Jewish law. We next hear of him as spending 
three years in the desert with a hermit, and then as joining 
the Pharisees. 

The revolutionary tendencies of his countrymen brought on 
a war with the Romans, in the course of which Josephus, after 
the brave defence of a city under his command, was made 
prisoner by the Roman general Flavius Vespasian. Prophe- 
sying that Vespasian would one day wear the purple of the 
emperors, he alone of the captives was spared ; the fulfilment 
of this prediction about three years later insured him the fa- 
vor of the Flavian family, whose name he prefixed to his own. 
Vespasian’s son, Titus, he accompanied to the siege of Jeru- 
salem, receiving at the hands of the victorious general after its 
capture* the lives of two hundred and forty of his friends, to- 
gether with the sacred volumes which he greatly prized. 

From the desolation of his country, Josephus returned to 
Rome as the honored guest of the emperor and his sons, dur- 
ing whose reigns he produced his great works, — “ the History 
of the Jewish War” and “Jewish Antiquities.” These inter- 
esting standards, though written in a style which has led to 
their author’s being called “ the Grecian Livy,” are yet tinged 
with vanity and skepticism. 

Plutarch (50-120 A.D.), the great biographer of antiquity, 
was born in Chaeronea, a Boeotian town. After completing 
his education at Athens, he sailed to Egypt, and in Domitian’s 


PLUTARCH AND HIS “LIVES.” 285 

reign (81-96 A.D.) visited Rome, where his lectures won gold- 
en opinions from the learned. 

From Italy, Plutarch returned to his native city, and there 
passed the last twenty or thirty years of his life, happy in the 
society of his wife, a paragon of good sense, economy, and vir- 
tue. Literature was henceforth his pursuit ; but believing it 
a duty to devote part of his time to the public good, he ac- 
cepted office from his fellow-townsmen, and was finally made 
chief-magistrate of Chaeronea. He tells us with relish how 
his neighbors often laughed at his doing what they considered 
beneath his dignity. When they wondered that so great a 
man should carry fish from market in his own hands, he told 
them, “ Why, it’s for myself and when they found fault with 
him for personally superintending the building of public edi- 
fices, he silenced them with the reply, “ This service is not for 
myself, but for my country.” “ The meaner the office you 
sustain,” said Plutarch, “ the greater the compliment you pay 
to the public.” 

In his delightful retreat at Chaeronea, Plutarch compiled 
from two hundred and fifty authorities the work that has given 
him a niche in the Temple of Fame — “Parallel Lives” — 
sparkling with interest and animation, as it is underlaid by 
good judgment. His plan was to present the biography of a 
distinguished Greek, follow it with that of some Roman, and 
then critically compare the two characters. But the “ Lives,” 
as we have it, is not the complete work its author probably 
left at his death, inasmuch as a number of biographies and 
parallels are wanting. Though Plutarch’s passion for story- 
telling sometimes carries him beyond the bounds of the prob- 
able, yet his work is an invaluable storehouse ; his capital 
literary portraits have stood the test of time, and are still 
universally admired. The charms of a book in which are 
recorded “ the greatest characters and most admirable actions 
of the human race ” can never fade. 


286 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Among the best of Plutarch’s Parallels is his 

COMPARISON OF DEMOSTHENES AND CICERO. 

“ Omitting an exact comparison of their respective faculties in 
speaking, yet thus much seems tit to he said: That DcMuosthenes, to 
make himself a master in rhetoric, applied all the faculties he had, 
natural or acquired, wholly that way ; that he far surpassed in force 
and strength of eloquence all his contemporaries in political ar)d ju- 
dicial speaking, in grandeur and majesty all the panegyrical orators, 
and in accuracy and science all the logicians and rhetoricians of his 
day : That Cicero was highly educated, and by his diligent study 
became a most accomplished general scholar in all these branches, 
having left behind him numerous philosophical treatises of his own 
on Academic principles ; as, indeed, eveii in his written speeches, 
both political and judicial, we see him continually trying to show 
his learning by the way. 

One may discover the different temper of each of them in their 
speeches. For the oratory of Demosthenes was without any embel- 
lishment or jesting, wholly composed for real effect and seriojisness ; 
not smelling of the lamp, as Pytheas scoffingly said, but of the tem- 
perance, thoughtfulness, austerity, and grave earnestness of his tem- 
per. Whereas Cicero’s fondness for mockery often ran him into 
scurrility; and in his love of laughing away serious arguments in 
judicial cases by jests and facetious remarks, with a view to the ad- 
vantage of his clients, he paid too little regard to what was decent : 
saying, for example, in his defence of Cselius, that he had done no 
absurd thing in indulging himself so freely in pleasures, it being a 
kind of madness not to enjoy the things we possess, especiallj^ since 
the most eminent philosoj)hers have asserted pleasure to be the chief 
good. So also we are told that when Cicero, being consul, undertook 
the defence of Murena against Cato’s prosecution, by way of banter- 
ing Cato, he made a long series of jokes upon the absurd paradoxes, 
as they are called, of the Stoic sect; so that, a loud laugh passing 
from the crowd to the judges, Cato, with a quiet smile, said to those 
who sat next him, ‘ My friends, what an amusing consul we have !’ 

Cicero was by natural temper very much disposed to mirth and 
pleasantry, and always appeared with a smiling and serene coun- 
tenance. But Demosthenes had constant care and thoughtfulness 
in his look, and a serious anxiety, which he seldom, if ever, laid aside ; 
and, therefore, he was accounted by his enemies, as he himself con- 
fessed, morose and ill-mannered. 

It is very evident, also, from their several writings, that Demos- 
thenes never touched upon his own praises but decently and without 
offence when there was need of it, and for some weightier end ; but, 
upon other occasions, modestly and sparingly. But Cicero’s immeas- 
nrable boasting of himself in his orations argues him guilty of an 
uncontrollable apx)etite for distinction, his cry being evermore that 


EXTRACT FROM PLUTARCH. 


281 


arras should give place to the gown, and the soldier’s laurel to the 
tongue. And at last we find him extolling not only his deeds and 
actions, but his orations also, as well those that were only spoken as 
those that were published; as if he were engaged in a boyish trial 
of skill, who should speak best, with the rhetoricians Isocrates and 
Anaximenes, not as one who could claim the task to guide and im 
struct the Roman nation, the 

Soldier full-armed, terrific to the foe. 

Moreover, the banishment of Demosthenes was infamous, upon con- 
viction for bribery; Cicero’s very honorable, for ridding his country 
of a set of villains. Therefore when Demosthenes fled his country, 
no man regarded it; for Cicero’s sake, the senate changed their habit 
and put on mourning, and w ould not be persuaded to make any act 
before Cicero’s return was decreed. 

Cicero, however, passed his exile idly in Macedonia. But the very 
exile of Demosthenes made up a great part of the services he did for 
his country ; for he went through the cities of Greece, and every w here, 
as we have said, joined in the conflict on behalf of the Grecians, driv- 
ing out the Macedonian ambassadors, and approving himself a much 
better citizen than Themistocles and Alcibiades did in the like fort- 
une. After his return, he again devoted himself to the same public 
service, and continued firm iu his opposition to Antipater and the 
Macedonians. Whereas Lsclius reproached Cicero in the senate for 
sitting silent when Caesar, a beardless youth, asked leave to come 
forw^ard, contrary to the law, as a candidate for the consulship; and 
Brutus, ill his epistles, charges him with nursing and rearing a great- 
er and more heavy tyranny than that they had removed. 

Finally, Cicero’s death excites our pity ; for an old man to be mis- 
erably carried up and down by his servants, flying and hiding him- 
self from that death which was, in the course of nature, so near at 
hand — and yet at last to be murdered. Demosthenes, though he 
seemed at first a little to supplicate, yet, by his preparing and keep- 
ing the poison by him, demands our admiration ; and still more ad- 
mirable was his using it. When the temple of the god no longer 
aflorded him a sanctuary, he took refuge at a mightier altar, freeing 
himself from arms and soldiers, and laughing to scorn the cruelty of 
Autipater.”— Clough. 

A moralist as well as a biographer, Plutarch wrote many 
ethical and philosophical essays. The death of his daughter 
called forth a feeling letter to his wife, — “ the Consolation,” — 
in which he affectionately bids her not give w^ay to extrava- 
gant grief, but submit with resignation to the blow, comforting 
her with thoughts of immortality ; it may be added that he 
held Plato’s views on this subject as on others. 


288 


GRECIAX LITERATURE. 


In his “ Essay on Inquisitiveness” he condemns all eager< 
ness to learn news and impatience in opening letters, or 
“ biting the strings in two, as many will if they do not succeed 
at once with their fingers.” As an example of dignified pa- 
tience, he instances Rusticus at Rome, who in the midst of 
a lecture received a letter from the emperor Domitian, but 
would not open it till Plutarch had finished speaking. 

Lucian (probably 120-200 A.D.); one of the wittiest of 
Greek writers, was a native of Syria, and passed his boyhood 
on the banks of the Euphrates. Doubtless his favorite 
amusement of moulding wax into figures weighed with his 
parents, no less than their own poverty, when they bound him 
as an apprentice to his rhother’s brother to learn the sculp- 
tor’s art. The young Lucian enthusiastically fell in with 
their decision, fondly anticipating the time when he should 
astonish his playfellows with little gods cut from the marble 
by his own hands. But his maiden attempt in the statuary’s 
shop resulted in a broken slab and a cruel whipping at the 
hands of his uncle. “ The first wages I earned,” he said, 
“were tears” — but they were also the last. He never re- 
turned to the chisel and mallet. 

After picking up a rhetorical education, by what means 
he does not tell us, Lucian established himself at Antioch 
as a lawyer; but failing of success, he set out on a lect- 
ure tour through Europe. In Gaul, where rhetoric, the art 
he taught, was in special demand, he accumulated a fort- 
une ; with which he retired from his profession in the 
prime of life, and took up his residence at Athens. Here 
he prosecuted his literary studies, exchanged his Syrian 
Greek for pure Attic, and is believed to have written his 
finest Dialogues. 

At the age of seventy, Lucian found himself so reduced ad 
to be obliged to accept from the Roman emperor the clerk- 
ship of the Alexandrian courts. This position, which allowed 


LUCIAN. 


289 


him to continue his literary labors, he is said to have enjoyed 
until his death. 

Lucian’s Style and Writings. — Piquant humor, inimita- 
ble power of satire, and wonderful versatility, are Lucian’s 
strong points. His style is clear and graceful. Of his vo- 
luminous writings the most popular are the “ Dialogues ” 
on various subjects, serious and humorous. He attacked 
falsehood and trickery, folly and superstition ; and the dead- 
ly blows he rained upon his country’s mythology, which led 
to his being called “the Blasphemer,” indirectly, though un- 
intentionally, helped the spread of Christianity. 

In the “Dialogues of the Gods,” the deities talk over the 
domestic affairs of the Olympian household, gossip, and wran- 
gle, and pry into one another’s secrets, quite after the manner 
of humans. Such a belittling of the national divinities could 
not be without an unsettling effect on the popular faith. — 
The “ Dialogues of the Dead ” are equally rich with humor 
and ridicule. 

Against the philosophers of his day, whom he looked upon 
as miserable charlatans, Lucian launched the laughable Dia- 
logue entitled “the Sale of the Philosophers,” in which the 
founders of the old schools are disposed of at auction by 
Jupiter in a slave-market. Mercury playing the part of auc- 
tioneer. Pythagoras is put up first and sells for $175 ; Di- 
ogenes, the next, brings less than sixpence ; while Socrates 
commands the high price of two talents. Pyrrho, the univer- 
sal doubter, will not believe that he has been sold, even af- 
ter he has seen himself paid for and delivered. The laughing 
Democritus and weeping Heraclitus fail to find a purchaser. 
The attempted sale of these two philosophers is thus de- 
picted : — 

“Jupiter. — Bring out another. Stay — those two there, that fel- 
low from Abdera, who is always laughing, and the Ephesian, who is 
always crying; I’ve a mind to sell them as a pair. 


290 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Mercury. — Stand oat there in the ring, yon two. — We offer yon 
here, sirs, two most admirable characters, the wisest we’ve had for 
sale yet. 

Customer. — By Jove, they’re a remarkable contrast! Why, one 
of them never stops laughing, while the other seems to be in trouble 
about something, for he’s in tears all the time. Holloa, you fellow I 
what’s all this about ? What are you laughing at ? 

Democritus. — Need you ask ? Because everything seems to me 
so ridiculous — you yourselves included. 

Customer. — What ! do you mean to laugh at us all to our faces, 
and mock at all we say and do ? 

Democritus. — Undoubtedly ; there’s nothing in life that’s seri- 
ous. Everything is unreal and empty — a mere fortuitous concur- 
rence of indefinite atoms. 

Customer. — You’re an indefinite atom yourself, you rascal! Con- 
found your insolence, won’t you stop laughing ? But you there, 
poor soul [to Heraclitu8'\, why do you weep so? for there seems more 
use in talking to you. 

Heraclitus. — Because, stranger, everything in life seems to me to 
call for pity and to deserve tears ; there is nothing but what is liable 
to calamity ; wherefore I mourn for men and pity them. The evil 
of to-day I regard not much : but I mourn for that which is to come 
hereafter — the burning and destruction of all things. This I grieve 
for, and that nothing is permanent, but all mingled, as it were, in 
one bitter cup — pleasure that is no pleasure, knowledge that knows 
nothing, greatness that is so little, all going round and round, and 
taking their turn in this game of life. 

Customer. — What do you hold human life to be then ? 

. Heraclitus. — A child at play, handling its toys, and changing 
them with every caprice. 

Customer. — A nd what are men ? 

Heraclitus. — G ods — but mortal. 

Customer. — A.nd the gods ? 

Heraclitus. — Men — but immortal. 

Customer. — You speak in riddles, fellow, and put ns off with puz- 
zles. You are as bad as Apollo Loxias, giving oracles that no man 
can.u nderstand. 

Heraclitus. — Yea ; I trouble not myself for any of ye. 

Customer. — Then no man in his senses is like to buy you. 

Heraclitus. — Woe ! woe to every man of ye, I say! buyers or not 
buyers. 

Customer. — Why, this fellow is pretty near mad — I’ll have naught 
to do with either of them, for my part. 

Mercury [^turning to Jupiter ~\. — We shall have this pair left on our 
hands too.” — C ollins. 


“ The Sale of the Philosophers ” has a sequel in “ the Re- 


i.ucian’s dialogues. 


291 


suscitated Professors.” Permitted to return to earth for a 
day to revenge themselves on Lucian, the Philosophers capt- 
ure him, and bring him to trial before the goddess of phi- 
losophy. He clears himself by showing that he has not 
attacked the venerable sages themselves, but only the im- 
postors who cheat the world under their great names. In 
the beginning of the Dialogue, Lucian is thus assailed by 
the belligerent Socrates and his conff'eres : — 

“ Socrates. — Pelt the wretch ! pelt him with volleys of stoues — 
throw clods at him — oyster-shells! Beat the blasphemer with your 
clubs — don’t let him escape ! Hit him, Plato I and you, Chrysippus ! 
and you I Form a phalanx, and rush on him all together. As Homer 
says — ‘ Let wallet join with wallet, club with club !’ He is the com- 
mon enemy of us all, and there is no man among ye whom he has not 
insulted. You, Diogenes, now use that stall' of yours, if ever you did! 
Don’t stop! let him have it, blasphemer that he is! What! tired 
already, Epicurus and Aristippus ? Aristotle, do run a little faster! 
That’s good! we’ve caught the beast! We’ve got you, jmu rascal! 
You shall soon find out whom you’ve been abusing! Now what shall 
we do with him ? Let us think of some multiform kind of death 
that may suffice for all of us, for he deserves a separate death from 
each. 

Philosopher A. — I vote that he he impaled. 

Philosopher B. — Yes — but he well scourged first. 

Philosopher C. — Let his eyes he gouged out. 

Philosopher D. — Ay — but his tongue should be out out first. 

Socrates. — What think you, Empedocles? 

. Empedocles. — He should be thrown down the crater of some vol- 
cano,* and so learn not to revile his betters. 

Plato. — Nay — the best punishment for him will he that, like 
Pentheus or Orpheus, 

‘ Torn by the ragged rocks he meet his fate.’ 

Lucian. — Oh ! no, no, pray ! spare me, for the love of Heaven ! 

Socrates. — Sentence is passed : nothing can save you.” 

Collins. 

Lucian is also famous in another line. His “True His- 
tory,” a burlesque on the Munchausen stories of the old poets 
and historians, recounts the stirring adventures of a party of 
voyagers who sail westward from the Pillars of Hercules 


* An allusion to the fate of Empedocles himself; see p. 236, 


292 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


(Strait of Gibraltar). It describes their visit to the moon, 
their sojourn in a country where wine flowed in rivers, their 
twenty months’ experience inside of a sea-monster that swal- 
lowed their vessel, and their discovery of “ the Island of the 
Blest,” with its golden -paved city and vines loaded with 
monthly fruitage. The lunarians happened to be engaged in 
war with the people of the sun, at the time of Lucian’s arrival, 
and he had the good fortune to witness a grand review of the 
lunar army. There were cavalry mounted on lettuce-winged 
birds, darters of millet -seed, garlic - fighters, wind - coursers, 
and archers who rode elephantine fleas. Spiders as large 
as islands hovered on their flanks. On the side of the sun 
were mustered horse-ants that covered two acres, archers on 
colossal gnats, slingers who discharged fetid radishes, and 
dog-headed men astride of winged acorns. — Had novel-writ- 
ing been in vogue in Lucian’s time, he would no doubt have 
excelled in that department of fiction. 

Pausanias, the Lydian geographer, was a contemporary of 
Lucian’s. It has been said that “ no writer of antiquity ex- 
cept Herodotus has stored away so many valuable facts in 
a small volume ” as he in his “ Itinerary of Greece.” Pau- 
sanias made art items a special feature of his Itinerary. 

Other Writers of the Second Century. — In the second cen- 
tury, Claudius Ptolemy, the astronomer, put forth his theory 
of the universe : that the earth is stationary and the centre of 
eight huge, hollow, crystal spheres, placed one within another. 
The moon he located in the nearest sphere. Mercury in the 
next, Venus in the third, the Sun in the fourth. Mars in the 
fifth, Jupiter in the sixth, and Saturn in the seventh. The 
eighth sphere he appropriated to the stars, which, despite 
their distance, were still visible through the transparent crys- 
tal. All these heavenly bodies he believed to revolve in theii 
respective spheres around the earth. Ptolemy’s “ Syntaxis,” 
or “ Construction,” embodying these views, was received as 


THE CHRISTIAN FATHERS. 


293 


authority until Copernicus, fourteen hundred years later, 
taught the true theory of the solar system. 

In this century, also, Justin Martyr wrote his “Apolo- 
gies ” in defence of Christianity against paganism ; and 
Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, his “ Epistle to the Philip- 
plans” — both sealing their faith with their blood. From 
iRENiEUS, bishop of Lyons, we have inherited a valuable 
legacy in his “ Treatise against Heresies.” 

Origen, the gifted pupil of Cle mens the Alexandrian, an 
ardent Christian philosopher, flourished in the third century. 
Among his writings, which, including his discourses, were 
numbered by thousands, are “ Commentaries on the Script- 
ures,” in the preparation of which he was assisted by clerks 
who wrote in short-hand from his dictation. Origen also re- 
plied effectively to Celsus, an Epicurean philosopher who 
some years before had attacked Christianity in his “True 
Story,” a powerful and much-read work of the time. 

Neo-Platonism. — The Academic philosophy, modified by 
its later professors and wrapped in a veil of mysticism, gave 
rise to the eclectic school of the Neo-Platonists, which was 
popular among the learned till the time of Constantine. The 
seeds of this philosophy were planted by Philo the Jew, men- 
tioned on page 104 as attempting to reconcile Plato’s doc- 
trines with the teachings of the Hebrew Scriptures. 

Ammonius, of Alexandria, was the real founder of Neo- 
Platonism, which, as it left his hand, was a medley of Plato’s 
and Aristotle’s tenets harmonized with the leading doctrines 
of Christianity. Though Ammonius enjoined his disciples to 
keep the mysteries of his philosophy to themselves, Ploti'- 
NUS, one of his distinguished pupils, unfolded them in his 
writings and taught them publicly at Rome, where he went 
to live 244 A.D. 

After Plotinus, Porphyry became a shining light of the 
Neo-Platonists ; but he was an outspoken opponent of Chris* 


294 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


tianity, maintaining that the world was without beginning, and 
denying the divinity of our Saviour. His work “Against the 
Christians” was afterward burned by order of the Roman em* 
peror Theodosius the Great. 

Iamblichus, a successor of Porphyry, went back to the 
mystical speculations of Pythagoras, and, taking quite a dif' 
ferent view from the early Neo- Platonists, turned his phi- 
losophy to the support of paganism. The emperor Julian 
the Apostate was one of his converts. 

Eusebius, the learned ecclesiastical historian, bishop of 
Caesare a in the fourth century, was among those who re- 
pelled the assaults of Porphyry on the Christian faith. He 
was a favorite of Constantine, whose life he wrote. 

Longinus (213-273 A.D.) was the greatest critic and most 
learned philosopher of his age. He studied and taught at 
Athens, and by reason of his extensive information was 
styled “ the Living Encyclopaedia.” The most distinguished 
of his pupils was Zenobia, queen of Palmyra, a woman of 
refined tastes and unusual talent. By his advice, she revolt- 
ed from Rome; overpowered by the emperor Aurelian, 273 
A.D., she sought to exculpate herself by throwing the blame 
upon her counsellor, and Longinus was put to death. 

Part of this author’s “Treatise on the Sublime” is all that 
remains of his many works. 

Athanasius. — A century after Longinus, lived Athanasius, 
one of the main pillars of the early Christian Church. His 
life was spent in contentions with Arius and his followers, 
who denied the equality of Christ with the Father ; in con- 
troversy with them, his vigorous pen was constantly employed. 

St. Chrysostom {golden-mouthed^ so called from his eloquence 
— 350-407) was the most famous of the Greek fathers. He 
was archbishop of Constantinople, and a voluminous writer 
of homilies, epistles, avid commentaries. His language is 
elegant, and his fund of figures inexhaustible. 


EOMANCE AND NOVEL WEITERS. 


295 


LIGHT LITEEATTJRE. 

Novel-Writers. — The novel and romance are not unrepre- 
sented in Greek literature. Heliodo'rus, a Phoenician by 
birth, who lived toward the close of the fourth century, ob- 
tained a well-deserved reputation as the author of “^thiopb 
ca,” a touching, pure -toned, but somewhat sensational, ro- 
mance. Its heroine, Charicle'a, an Ethiopian princess, ex- 
posed by her mother in infancy and brought up in ignorance 
of her birth, with her lover Theagenes, falls into the hands 
of pirates and undergoes a variety of adventures. The tale 
ends happily, quite in the modern style. 

Heliodorus, later in life, gave up novel-writing for a mitre, 
being made bishop of Tricca in Thessaly. 

Another Greek novelist, perhaps a contemporary of Helio- 
dorus, perhaps belonging to a later, generation, was Longus, 
author of the “ Loves of Daphnis and Chloe.” The scene of 
this pastoral love-story is laid in the groves of Lesbos, where 
the hero and heroine have grown up together in the bonds 
of innocent affection, i la “ Paul and Virginia.” 

The “ Story of Leucippe and Cli'tophon,” by Achilles 
Ta'tius, an Alexandrian rhetorician who flourished about 
500, stands next to the “^thiopica ” among the Greek novels. 

Hierocles. — The “Facetiae” of Hierocles (5th century) 
must not be forgotten in this connection. Though a Neo- 
Platonist, grave and learned enough to discuss “ Providence 
and Fate ” and make a volume of profound commentaries on 
the Golden Verses of Pythagoras, he evidently enjoyed a good 
joke. He has left us twenty-eight brief stories of Scholastici, 
or bookworms so unsophisticated and unused to the ways of 
the world that we may call them simpletons. A few of these 
are given as samples of his humor; from which it may be 
seen that some of the wit that passes for modern is as old 
as Hierocles. 


296 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


STORIES OF SIMPLETONS. 

A simpleton, wishing to swim, was nearly drowned ; whereupon * 
he swore that he would never touch the water until he had learned 
how to swim. 

A simpleton, visiting a sick person, inquired about his health. 
He, however, was not able to rejdy. Thereupon the simpleton, being 
angry and scolding the man, said : “ I hope that I shall be sick some 
of these days, and then when you come to ask how I am, I will not 
answer.’’ 

A simpleton, Avishing to teach his horse to be a small eater, gave 
him no food at all. At length the horse having starved to death, he 
exclaimed: “I have suffered a great loss, for now that he had just 
learned not to eat he has died.” 

A simpleton, looking out of the window of a house which he had 
bought, asked the passers-by whether the house was becoming to 
him. 

A simpleton, having dreamed that he had trodden on a nail and 
that the Avound pained him, on waking bound up his foot. Another 
simpleton, having learned the cause, remarked : It served you 
right, for why do you sleep without sandals?” 

A simpleton, meeting a doctor, hid himself behind a wall. Some 
one asking the cause, he ansAvered : “ I have not been sick for a long 
time, and therefore I am ashamed to come into the sight of a phy- 
sician.” 

A simpleton had sealed up a vessel of Aminsean wine which he 
had. His servant, having made a hole in the vessel beneath and 
drawn off some of the wine, he was astonished to see the contents 
diminished while the seals remained unbroken. A neighbor having 
told him to look whether it had not been taken out from below, he 
replied : “ Why, you fool, it’s the upper part, not the lower, that is 
missing.” 

A simpleton, meeting another simpleton, said, “ I heard you were 
dead.” — And yet,” replied the other, you see that I am still aliv'e.” 
— “ Well,” said the first in perplexity, “ I don’t knoAv Avhat to believe, 
for he who told me is much more deserAung of confidence than you.” 

A simpleton, learning that the raven would live more than tAvo 
hundred years, bought one and brought it up, that he might test the 
matter. 

Of twin brothers, one died. A simpleton, thereupon, meeting the 
survivor, asked, “ Is it you that died, or your brother?” 

A simpleton, in danger of being shipAvrecked, called for his tab- 
lets that he might make his Avill. Seeing, thereupon, his slaves la- 
menting their lot, he said, “Do not grieA^e, for I am going to set you 
free.” 

A simpleton, wishing to cross a river, went on board the boat on 
horseback. When some one asked the reason, he answered that he 
Avanted to get over in a hurry. 


THE BYZANTINE PERIOD. 


297 


A simpleton ami a bald man and a barber, travelling together, 
agreed to keep watch in turn four hours each while the others slej)t. 
The barber’s turn came first. He quietly shaved the head of the 
sleepiug simpleton, aud when the time elapsed awoke him. The lat- 
ter, scratching his head as he got up, aud finding it bare, cried out: 
“ What a rascal that barber is ; he’s waked the bald man instead of 
me !” 


BYZANTINE LITERATURE. 

The list of sophists, grammarians, historians, and other 
writers belonging to the Byzantine period, contains names 
without number and without lustre. A love-song of the Jus- 
tinian era (527-565 A.D.), by the emperor’s privy-councillor, 
will give an idea of the poetry of this age. 

THE DRENCHED LOVER. 

“ The voice of the song and the banquet was o’er, 

Aud I hung up my chaplet at Glycera’s door. 

When the mischievous girl from a window above. 

Who looked down and laughed at the offering of love, 

Filled with water a goblet whence Bacchus had fled, 

And poured all the crystal contents on my head. 

So drenched was my hair, three whole days it resisted 
All attempts of the barber to friz it or twist it ; 

But the water (so whimsical, Love, are thy ways!) 

While it put out my curls, set my heart in a blaze.” 

J. H. Merivale. 

THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY. 

The Anthology {bunch of flowers) is a collection of more 
than four thousand short pithy poems, from the pens of about 
three hundred Greek writers. 

Melea'ger was the first gatherer of these literary flowers ; 
his “ Garland ” contained choice morsels of poetry from the 
time'of Sappho down, many of the best pieces being the work 
of his own hand. “Meleager’s poetry,” says Symonds, “has 
the sweetness of the rose, the full-throated melody of the 
nightingale.” Others added to Meleager’s collection, the last 
ancient anthologist being the historian Aga'thias, who flour- 
ished at Constantinople in the reign of Justinian. 

N 


298 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


The pieces of the Greek Anthology are epigrams and fugi- 
tive verses, amatory, witty, and didactic. Some of them com- 
pare favorably with the best efforts of the writers already con- 
sidered ; while not a few are plainly the sources of some of 
the household sayings and proverbial philosophy of modern 
times. (Consult Macgregor's Greek Anthology r) 

FLOWERS FROM THE ANTHOLOGY. 

A PIOUS ACT REWARDED. 

While from the strand his line a fisher threw, 

Shoreward a shipwrecked human head he drew. 

His moistened eyes soft drops of pity shed, 

While gazing on the hald and truukless head. 

No spade he had; hut while his active hands 
Scraped a small grave among the yielding sands, 

A store of gold, there hid, he found. Yes ! yes! 

Heaven will the just maiYs pious actions bless.” 

Carphyllides. 

Enjoy your goods as if your death were near ; 

Save them as if Twere distant many a year. 

Sparing or spending, be thy wisdom seen 
In keeping ever to the golden mean.” — Lucian. 

THE PARTNERSHIP. 

Damon, who plied the undertaker’s trade, 

With Doctor Cra'teas an agreement made. 

What linens Damon from the dead could seize, 

He to the Doctor sent for bandages ; 

While the good Doctor, here no promise-breaker, 

Sent all his patients to the undertaker.” 

“ Swift kindnesses are best ; a long delay 
In kindness takes the kindness all away.'' 

THE LESSON OF THE TOPS. 

“ An Atarne'an stranger once to Pittacus applied. 

That ancient sage, Hyrradius’ son, and Mytilene’s pride; 

‘ Grave sir, betwixt two marriages I now have power to choose, 
And hope you will advise me which to take and which refuse. 

One of the maidens, every way, is very near myself ; 

The other’s far above me, both in pedigree and pelf. 


EXTRACTS FROM THE ANTHOLOGY. 


299 


Now which is best V The old man raised the staff which old men 
hear, 

And with it pointed to some boys that then were playing there, 
Whipping their tops along the street : ^ Their steps,’ ha said, ‘ pur- 
sue. 

And look and listen carefully; they’ll tell you what to do.’ 
Following them, the stranger went to see what might befall. 

And ' Whip the top that’s nearest you !’ was still their constant 
call. 

He, by this boyish lesson taught, resigned the high-born dame, 
And wed the maiden ‘ nearest him.’ Go thou and do the same.” 

ENVY. 

“ Poor Diophon of envy died. 

His brother thief to see 
Nailed near him, to be crucified. 

Upon a higher tree.” 

THE FLEAS OUTWITTED. 

“A countryman once who was troubled with fleas. 

Jumped up out of bed in a thundering breeze. 

And triumphantly cried, as he blew out the light, 

‘ Now I have you, you rogues, you can’t see where to bite !’ ” 

Lucian. 


CURES FOR LOVE. 

“ Hunger, perhaps, may cure your love. 

Or time your passion greatly alter; 

If both should unsuccessful prove, 

I strongly recommend a halter.” — Crates. 

“Too much is always bad; old proverbs call 
E’en too much honey nothing else than gall.” 

THE RAVEN LOCKS. 

“ Chloe, those locks of raven hair — 

Some people say you dye them black ; 

But that’s a libel, I can swear. 

For I know where you buy them black.” 

LOVE SONG. 

“ The winecnp is glad : dear Zenophil^’s lip 
It boasts to have touched, when she stooped down to sip. 
Happy winecup ! I wish that, with lips joined to mine. 
All my soul at a draught she would drink up like wine.” 


300 


GRECIAN LITERATURE. 


Short is the rose’s bloom ; another morn 
Will show no rose, hut in its stead, a thorn.” 

heliodora’s garland. 

I’ll frame, my Heliodora ! a garland for thy hair, 

Wliich tbou, in all thy beauty’s pride, mayst not disdain to wear ; 
For I, with tender myrtles, white violets will twine — 

White violets, but not so pure as that pure breast of thine : 

With laughing lilies I will twine narcissus ; and the sweet 
Crocus shall in its yellow hue with purple hyacinth meet : 

And I will twine. with all the rest, and all the rest above, 

Queen of them all, the red, red Rose, the flower which lovers love.’’- 

Meleager, 


GEMS OF GREEK THOUGHT. 

HOMER. 

“ Mob rule is not good ; let there be one monarch. — Victory changes 
oft her side. — Pray, for all men require aid from on high. — Even the 
fool is wise after the event. — The man whom Jove loves, is a match 
for many. — Wine leads to folly. — The force of union conquers all. — 
Too much rest itself becomes a pain. — Noblest minds are most easily 
bent. — Few sous are equal to their sires. — To sorrow without ceasing 
is wrong.” 

HESIOD. 

“ Emulation is good for mortals. — The best treasure among men is 
a frugal tongue. — Idleness, not labor, is disgraceful.” 

PINDAR. 

“ Mirth is the best physician for man’s toils. — The guilty souls dt 
those who die here must pay the penalty in another life. — Point thy 
tongue on the anvil of truth.” 

^SCHYLUS. 

“ He hears but half that hears one party only. — To know and to 
conjecture differ widely. — To be without evil thoughts is God’s best 
gift.” 

SOPHOCLES. 

“ Clamorous sorrow wastes itself in sound. — Quiek resolves are 
often unsafe. — What good man is not his own friend? — In a just 
cause, the weak subdue the strong.” 

EURIPIDES. 

“ The Deity helps him who helps himself. — Gold has greater power 
over men thau ten thousand arguments. — Temperance, the noblest 


GEMS OF GREEK THOUGHT. 


301 


gift of Heaven! — To form devices, quick is woman^s w it. — In dark- 
ness a runaway has mighty strength. — Death is a debt that all mor- 
tals must pay.” 

ARISTOPHANES. 

“ To fear death is a great folly. — Old men are boys twice over. — 
Poverty is a sister of beggary.” 

HERODOTUS. 

“ Rash haste ever goes before a fall. — Men are dependent on cir- 
cumstances, not circumstances on men. — The god loves to cut dowm 
all towering things. The god suffers none but himself to be haughty. 
— The hand of a king is very long. — Self-restraiut brings blessings, 
^ot seen at the moment perhaps, yet found out in due time.” 

XENOPHON. 

The sw^eetest of all sounds is praise. — It is impossible for a man 
attempting mauy things to do them all well.” 

PLATO. 

“ A boy is the most ferocious of animals. — Wisdom is the true and 
unalloyed coin. — Much learning brings danger to youth. — The race 
of fools is not to be counted. — Those are profane w ho think that 
nothing exists except what they can grasp with their hands. — Dogs 
are like their mistresses. — Let no one speak evil of another. — Self- 
conquest is the greatest of victories.” 

ARISTOTLE. 

“ One swallow does not make a spring. — We ought rather to pay 
a debt to a creditor than give to a companion. — Of this alone is even 
God deprived, the power of making that which is past never to have 
been. — The beginning is said to be half the whole. — All flatterers are 
mercenary. — No one loves the man whom he fears/’ 

DEMOSTHENES. 

“ Success tends to throw a veil over the evil deeds of men. — What 
we wish, that w e readily believe. — To find fault is easy.” 

MENANDER. 

‘‘ A daughter is an embarrassing and ticklish possession. — He 
whom the gods love, dies young. — Evil communications corrupt good 
manners {quoted by St. Whoever blushes seems to be good. — 

Nobody sees his own faults, but every one is lynx-eyed to those of his 
neighbor. — Love blinds all men. — Silence *has many advantages. 
He is well cleansed that hath his conscience clean. — There is noth- 


302 


iiUECIAN LITERATURE. 


iDg more daring than ignorance. — Truth, when not sought after, 
sometimes comes to light.” 

POLYBIUS. 

“Nothing happens without a cause. — Royalty, aristocracy, and 
democracy, must combine to make a perfect government. — Many 
know how to conquer; few are able to use their conquest aright.” 

PLUTARCH. 

“Absolute monarchy is a fair field, but has no outlet. — What one 
does not need, is dear at a penny. — Often, while we are delighted 
with the work, we regard the workman with contempt. — Dead men 
do not bite.” 


MINOR WRITERS AND THEIR WORKS. 


Oppian (second century) : didactic po- 
ems on fishing and hunting. 

Arrian ( second century ) : master- 
piece, “Expedition of Alexander the 
Great.” 

Dion Cassius, a Roman senator (born 
155 A.D.) : “ History of Rome ” in 80 
books, from the earliest ages to 229 

A.D. 

vElian (second centur}’^) : a zoology 
and a miscellaneous history. 

Appian of Alexandria (second cen- 
tury) : a “ Roman History ” in 24 
books. 

Hero'dian (180-238 A.D .) : “ History 
of the Roman Emperors.” 

Diogenes Laertius: his “Lives of 
the Philosophers” contains a valua- 
ble summary of the Epicurean ten- 
ets. 

Ga'lkn (second ceiitur}'), one of the ■ 


world’s greatest physicians : medical 
treatises. 

Mus.eus (fifth century): the poem 
“ Hero and Leander.” ' 

Tryphiodo'rus (fifth century) : poems 
on the Battle of Marathon and the 
sack of Troy; a lipogrammatic Od- 
yssey, from the first book of which, 
styled Alpha, the letter a w^as ex- 
cluded ; from Beta, the second, h ; 
and so the several letters in turn 
through its 24 books. This work 
is lost. 

Quintus Smyrn.eus (500 A.D.) : his 
poem, “ Things Omitted by Homer,” 
a continuation of the Iliad. 

Nonnus (sixth century): “the Dio- 
nysiaca,” an Epic on Bacchus in 48 
books. 

Proco'pius (flourished 550), the Byz- 
antine historian : History of his 
Own Times.” 


PART III. 


ROMAN LITERATURE, 


CHAPTER I. 

LA TIN AND ITS OLDEST MONUMENTS, 

Italy Peopled.— While watching the rise, meridian splendors, I 
and glowing sunset of Grecian letters, we have left unnoticed 1 
the dawn of literary taste in Italy, the sister of Hellas, peo - 1 
pled, as we have seen, by kindred Phrygian tribes who spoke j 
dialects of the Phrygo-Hellenic tongue (p. 133). Whether i 
they were the first of human kind to wake the echoes of the i 
Italian solitudes, must ever remain a matter of doubt. Some 
believe that the Alps had proved an insuperable barrier to pre- 
vious emigrants from the East ; others, that the adventurous 
Pelasgians, on descending their slopes, found a Turanian pop- 
ulation already in possession of the peninsula. If the latter 
theory be correct, the Turanian aborigines were speedily over- 
powered by the new-comers and became incorporated with 
their conquerors. 

When Rome was founded, 753 B.C., the predominant Ital- 
ian races were distinguished as Latin and Umbrian (embrac- 
ing the Oscans) \ their languages were closely related, and 
have been called Italic. The Etruscans, who lived west of the 
Tiber, though probably of Aryan origin, differed in many re- 
spects from the Umbrians and Latins. 


304 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 



ANCIENT ITALY 

and the 

PLACES NOTED 
in the 

HISTORY of Its LITERATURE 


oPataviuml 


'Vblatefra; 


Lmlteriiuin 


PSulmo 




'Af ® o Cadmim 
,Aiella 


Kennsia 


Eormi^ 


M Cum®, 


ludioe 


^Syharis 


'Crotona 


[cgium 


mtiiri 


Agrigentum 


[See the above map for the various localities mentioned in connection with 
Roman Literature.] 

The Latin Language, in its most ancient form, was probably 
spoken by the people of Latium at least twelve hundred years 
before the Christian Era. For many centuries it remained 
harsh and unpolished, nor did its roughness materially wear 
away until it came in contact with the Greek, about 250 B.C. 
Then its vocabulary was enriched, and it gradually acquired 
elegance and beauty. A knowledge of Greek came to be re- 
garded as indispensable to a polite education, and Roman 
children were taught this language before their own. 

A reaction, however, ultimately set in, and the foisting of 
foreign words and idioms on the native tongue was con- 


THE LATIN LANGUAGE. 


305 


demned as strongly as it had once been favored ; a strange 
expression was now compelled to run the gantlet of merci- 
less criticism before it was admitted as part of the language. 
Caesar advised to shun a new term as one would a reef; 
Augustus frankly acknowledged that, though he was emperor 
of the world, he could not make a Latin word ; and Tiberius 
was thus pointedly rebuked by a Roman grammarian for a 
verbal error : “ Thou, O Caesar ! canst confer Roman citizen- 
ship on men, but not on words.” 

When the rest of Italy submitted to the arms of Rome, it 
accepted the language of the conqueror. Latin also sup- 
planted the Carthaginian tongue in Africa and Spain, Celtic 
in Gaul and Britain, and finally was spoken in greater or 
less purity throughout the empire. 

In its perfection, which it attained during the first century 
B.C., Latin was characterized by energy, dignity, and preci- 
sion, its power and gravity compensating for the lack of “ At- 
tic grace.” According to its system of grammar, six cases 
and two numbers were distinguished ; nouns, pronouns, and 
adjectives, were declined ; and verbs were varied in form 
through the tenses and moods of two voices. Thus the Latin 
had one more case-form than the Greek, but lacked the dual 
number and middle voice of Greek and Sanscrit. 

The Latin alphabet, consisting originally of twenty-one let- 
ters, was borrowed from the Greeks through a Dorian colony 
at Cumae. Its resemblance to the Greek may be seen by 
turning to page 87. The character X. of the Roman system 
of notation is ascribed to the Etruscans. 

Ancient Latin Relics. — During the five centuries that fol- 
lowed the founding of Rome, the literary history of the city is 
all but a blank. Curious specimens of its antique tongue are 
preserved in fragments of laws and a few inscriptions ; but 
the songs of the first Latin bards are lost forever. The le- 
gends of Romulus, the seizure of the Sabine women, the 


306 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


stories of Lucretia and Virginia, of Coriolanus and Horatius. 
— these, with many similar traditions, were doubtless the sub- 
jects of irregular ballads and heroic poems. 

The rough simple verse in which they appeared was called 
Saturnian;^ it is supposed to have been adopted from the 
Etruscan poets, and charmed the ears of the Romans until 
they listened to the more tuneful measures of the Greeks. 
The time -honored Saturnian verses were then thrust aside, 
with the old lays that told the proud conquerors of Italy of 
their humble origin and early struggles. This ballad-poetry 
may never have been written ; sung from generation to gen- 
eration, it was kept alive to grace in after -days the epic of 
Ennius and the pages of the historian Livy. 

The oldest existing Latin poetry is inscribed on a tablet 
exhumed at Rome in 1778. It is a chant of the Arval Broth- 
ers^ an association of priests founded under the Roman kings, 
and consists of an invocation to Mars, the god of war, to avert 
pestilence. Almost as venerable is a fragment from a Sali- 
an Hymn^ sung by the Salian {dancing) priests in honor of 
Ja nus. {See Prof. Allen's '‘'‘Remnants of Early LatinP) 

Extracts from the Laws of the Twelve Tables (450 B.C.), 
which were destroyed in the early wars, have been collected 
from the works of later writers. The old Latin, however, is 
very obscure ; so much did the language afterward change 
that in the golden age the Salian poems were enigmas to 
the Romans themselves. 

There are also traces of an ancient Umbrian literature, 
which has perished. 


Age of native minstrelsy, 753-250 B.C. : early poetry composed of hymns, fes- 
tal and religious, banquet songs and funeral odes in commemoration of heroes, 


* From Saturn, an ancient Italian god fabled to have instructed the people 
in agriculture. The metre was accommodated to the rapid beats of the foot in 
the country dances at harvest-time. 


THE DAWX PERIOD. 


307 


rude satiric verses, and, according to Niebuhr, epic poems surpassing the works 
of later times “ in power and brilliance of imagination.” No remnants of all this 
literature. — In prose, a primitive oratory. 


CHAPTER II. 

DAWN OF ROMAN LITERATURE. 

As Italy received her first lessons in reading and writing 
from the Greeks, in law-making from Solon, in art from 
Phidias and Praxiteles, so in polite literature she drew her 
inspiration from the same source. The early Roman writers 
not ■ only took their cue from Greek authors, but were in 
some cases downright imitators and mere translators. 

A Greek slave, Livius Andronicus, who may be called the 
father of Roman classical literature, translating the Odyssey 
into Saturnian verse, introduced his captors to the literary 
treasures of his country. Enraptured Rome eagerly snatched 
the crown of letters as it fell from the head of her elder sister, 
and for a time the borrowed jewels sparkled on her brow. 
But she paid dearly for her brilliant ornaments ; for, with 
Greek taste and culture, came also Greek effeminacy and vice. 

The aim of the first Latin writers was to give their tongue 
the same polish as the model from which they copied ; but 
an excess of foreign graces was repugnant to the genius of 
their more stately language, and it was soon seen that the 
refinement of the Greek would prove fatal to the vigor of 
Latin. Accordingly the Roman orators set their faces 
against any further “Grecizing,” and struggled as manfully 
to preserve the purity of their vernacular as they did to main- 
tain the moral purity of the nation, fast drifting into the dan- 
gerous quicksands of sloth and self-indulgence. 

The sixth and seventh centuries of Rome, the period cov- 
X 2 


308 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


ered by the present chapter, saw the birth of the regular 
drama and its decline; the earliest attempts at epic and satiric 
poetry ; and the rise of a vigorous prose. Livius Androni'cus 
paraphrased Greek tragedies; Naevius and Ennius not only 
contributed to dramatic literature, but called epic poetry into 
being ; Plautus and Terence set forth a feast of good things 
in their comedies ; Lucilius, the father of Roman satire, lashed 
vice and corruption unsparingly in his hexameters ; and Cato 
laid the foundations of Latin prose. 

DRAMATIC POETRY. 

The Roman Drama. — While in the later and more devel- 
oped stages of Roman literature the plastic influence of 
Greece is everywhere perceptible, in the earlier days there 
were original elements, devoid of polish indeed, but possess- 
ing the rude vigor that distinguished the nation. There was 
a sort of drama, for instance, native to Italy. It appeared in 
its primitive guise in the Fescennine* dialogues — metrical 
songs accompanied with rustic dances — which were long the 
delight of the mirth-loving Italian country-folk. When, how- 
ever, the improvised jests and satires of these entertainments 
opened the door to malicious personal abuse, it was found 
necessary to prohibit libellous verses by law. 

The merry songs called Saturce (from the safura idnx, dish 
of various fruits offered to the gods) were brought upon the 
Roman stage in the fourth century B.C. A flute accompa- 
niment and Etruscan actors, who through ignorance of the 
Roman language merely played the part of dancers and pan- 
tomimists, rendered the Saturae highly attractive. At a later 
period, these medleys formed the afterpieces to regular 
dramas. 

From the Oscan town Atella in Campa'nia, the so-called 


♦ From Fescennium, an Etruscan town. 


LIVIUS ANDRONICUS. 


309 


Atellane Fables derived their name — pieces with simple plots, 
that pictured ancient village-life in Italy, with its inevitable 
characters of the chatterbox, the sharper, and the long-eared 
glutton. It was no disgrace for young nobles, appropriately 
masked, to improvise the dialogue of the Atellane Fable, or 
sing the songs in Saturnian verse. 

The regular Roman drama was a copy of the Greek, and 
first saw the light at the grand celebration over the downfall 
of Carthage, when (240 B.C.) a real tragedy and comedy were 
represented. Their author was 

Livius Andronicus (about 285-204 B.C.), who fell into the 
hands of the Romans when his native city, Tarentum in 
southern Italy, submitted to their arms. Brought to their 
capital as a slave, he succeeded in obtaining his liberty and 
opened a school for his support. The wants of his pupils led 
him to translate Homer’s Odyssey into Latin ; he thus not 
only provided the Roman schools with a text -book which 
held its place for centuries, but inspired the people generally 
with a strong desire to become acquainted with the Greek 
masterpieces, and gave a spur to the development of a na- 
tional literature. 

Andronicus was no less successful as a literary caterer, 
when he put upon the Roman stage his Latin versions of 
certain Greek plays ; yet, though the public relished higher 
and more dignified dramatic performances than the Fescen- 
nines and Saturae, they loved the latter too much to dis- 
pense with them entirely. The vulgar off-hand humor of the 
amateur actors in these performances was long exceedingly 
popular. 

Andronicus had a rough theatre assigned him on the Aven- 
tine Mount. In accordance with the fashion of his day, he 
played entire parts without assistance, until an injury to his 
voice obliged him to delegate the recitative passages to a 
boy, who sung them to the accompaniment of the flute, while 


310 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


he made the appropriate gestures. Thus originated a cus- 
tom which thereafter prevailed at Rome, — that of having two 
actors, one to declaim and the other to gesticulate. 

Livius Andronicus kindled the first spark of literary am- 
bition in Rome, and paved the way for her future progress in 
letters. He enjoyed the respect of his contemporaries, and 
was honored by succeeding generations, though Cicero pro- 
nounced his plays unworthy of a second reading. If we 
except a few doubtful lines, posterity knows his dramas only 
by their titles. 

Cneius NaBvius (269-204 B.C.), a Campanian by birth, after 
serving in the First Punic War, took up his residence at Rome 
and there made dramatic literature his profession. His first 
play was represented about 235 B.C. 

The Greek dramatists furnished Naevius with the material 
for his tragedies and comedies, in the latter of which — better 
adapted to his genius, and therefore more original — he par- 
ticularly excelled. Closing his eyes to the danger of satiriz- 
ing the patrician houses, he fearlessly revived the personal 
attack of Aristophanes in his ridicule of Scipio and the Me- 
telli. His lampoons directed against the latter cost him 
dear. The verse of the poet, — “ It is fate, not merit, that has 
made the Metelli always consuls of Rome,” — stung them to 
the quick, and they procured his imprisonment. Naevius 
employed the time in writing comedies ; and after his libera- 
tion, nowise daunted by his previous bad fortune, he let fly 
his shafts at the nobility as recklessly as ever. Rome could 
no longer tolerate him, and sent him forth from her gates to 
die in exile. 

The fate of Naevius proved a warning to future comic po- 
ets. None were ambitious to assume the role which he had 
played ; but, taking Menander for their model rather than 
Aristophanes, they sought their subjects in the follies and 
foibles of society at large. 


N^VIUS. ENNIUS. 


311 


So far as we can judge from the scanty fragments that re* 
main, the style of Naevius, though unpolished (for he still 
wrote in the old Saturnian verse), was nervous, bold, and 
pointed. His works were for centuries the delight of the 
Romans, who admired his independence ; while succeeding 
authors did not regard it unworthy of their genius to borrow 
the spirited thoughts of Rome’s first native poet. His epi- 
taph read as follows : — 

‘‘ If gods might to a mortal pay the tribute of a tear, 

The Muses would shed one upon the poet Naevius’ bier; 

For when he was transferred unto the regions of the tomb. 

The people soon forgot to speak the native tongue of Rome.” 

Sellar thus puts in English the old Roman’s description of 
a flirt, which survives from one of his comedies : — 

“ Like one playing at hall in a ring, she tosses about from one to 
another, and is at home with all. To one she nods, to another 
winks ; she makes love to one, clings to another. Her hand is busy 
here, her foot there. To one she gives a ring to look at, to another 
blows a kiss ; with one she sings, with another corresponds by 
signs.” 

The ablest work of Naevius is an epic poem, which will be 
described hereafter. 

Ennius, partly Greek, partly Oscan by descent, was born in 
Rudiae in southern Italy, 239 B.C. After serving with honor 
in the Roman army in Sardinia, he was induced to visit Rome 
by Cato the Censor, who appears at one time to have been 
his patron. 

Filled with a desire to refine the taste of his countrymen, 
Ennius drew upon Euripides for their benefit. The titles of 
twenty-five of his tragedies survive ; but the fragments that 
are preserved of these, as well as of several comedies, show 
them to be mere copies of Greek pieces. Though gifted with 
poetical genius and possessed of remarkable learning, Ennius 
found imitation easier than original composition. 


312 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


In the following fragment from one of his plays, Ennius de- 
nies the providence of God : — 

Xies ! there are gods ; but they no thought bestow 

/ On human deeds, on mortal bliss or woe ; 

1 Else would such ills our wretched race assail ? 

Would the good sutFer ? Would the bad prevail 

It is not, however, as a dramatic poet that Ennius has won 
distinction. His renown is based on his “Annals,” or “Met- 
rical Chronicles,” of all their poems the favorite with the Ro- 
mans, in whose minds they were associated with the heroic 
achievements they commemorated. The “Annals” must be 
reserved for the present, while we view the progress of com- 
edy in the works of Plautus and Terence. 

Titus Maccius Plautus (254-184 B.C.), a contemporary of 
Ennius, was the first great comic poet of Rome. A boorish 
country-boy, he left his home among the mountains of Um- 
bria to seek his fortune in the capital, and was at first quite 
successful as a stage -carpenter and decorator. The sobri- 
quet Plautus^ by which he is universally known, was signifi- 
cant of his large flat feet ; nor do his personal peculiarities 
generally, judging from a self-painted portrait in one of his 
comedies, appear to have been of a very prepossessing type : — 

“A red-haired man, with round protuberant stomach, 

Legs with stout calves, and of a swart complexion : 

Large head, keen eyes, red face, and monstrous feet.” 

Unthrifty as he was uncomely, Plautus before long found 
himself reduced to the menial employment of grinding corn 
for a baker, to keep body and soul together ; but his hard- 
ships were the making of the man. While thus engaged, dur- 
ing his unoccupied hours he tried his hand at writing come- 
dies. He struck the right vein ; play followed play in rapid 
succession ; the author rose in public estimation, and during 
the rest of his life reigned without a peer on the comic stage. 


PLAUTUS. 


313 


Modern imitations of his comedies prove how lasting has 
been their popularity. 

The Greek poets inspired the pen of Plautus ; but he 
paints Roman manners, breathes Roman sentiments, and em- 
ploys the idiomatic conversational Latin of his time. The 
tone of his dramas is far from elevating ; his humor, though 
bold and sprightly, is coarse ; and his Greek pictures of im- 
becile fathers, dissipated sons, intriguing slaves, jealous hus- 
bands, hungry parasites, and disreputable female characters 
(for all other female characters, except servants, were studi- 
ously kept in the background), had their effect in undermining 
the stern old Roman virtue. Yet the style of Plautus is flow- 
ing and animated ; his plays are full of bustle and fun ; and 
we can but admire his fertility of invention and wonderful 
command of language. Some of his characters are not un- 
worthy of Shakespeare. 

Plautus prefaced most of his comedies with prologues, 
which served the purpose of modern play-bills in that they 
contained brief analyses of the pieces. Curious requests ap- 
pear in some of these : women are asked to refrain from dis- 
turbing the house by gossiping, children are desired to keep 
quiet, and mothers are besought not to bring infants to the 
theatre. 

Twenty comedies of Plautus are extant, of which the finest 
is “ the Captives.” Its plot is as follows : — 

During a war between Elis and ^tolia, Hegio, a rich 
^tolian, buys at a sale of captives Philoc'rates and Tyndarus 
his slave, hoping to possess himself of a prisoner of rank to 
exchange for a son, who has fallen into the enemy’s hands. 
To effect the negotiation, he proposes to send the slave to 
Elis with a message to the father of Philocrates, who, he 
learns, is a man of wealth and standing. The devoted Tyn- 
darus, however, seizes the opportunity to restore Philocrates 
to liberty, allowing him to go on the journey and remaining 


314 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


in his stead, a change of apparel having been made, to impose 
upon Hegio. The parting scene between the two, in the pres- 
ence of their master, is among the best passages of the play. 
The disguised Philocrates, about to leave, has inquired what 
message he shall carry to the captive’s father : — 

“Tyndarus (habited as Philocrates ). — Say I am well; and 
tell him this, good Tyndarus, 

We two have lived in sweetest harmony, 

Of one accord in all things ; never yet 
Have yon been faithless, never I unkind. 

And still, in this our strait, you have been true 
And loyal to the last, through woe and want. 

Have never failed me, nor in will nor deed. 

This when my father hears, for such good service 
To him and to his son, he cannot choose 
But give you liberty. I will iusure it. 

If I go free from hence. ’Tis you alone. 

Your help, your kindness, your devoted service. 

Shall give me to my parents’ arms again. 

Philocrates (as Tyndarus ). — I have done this : I’m glad 
you should remember; 

And you have well deserved it : for if I 
Were in my turn to count up all the kindness 
That you have shown to me, day would grow night 
Before the tale were told. Were you my slave. 

You could have shown no greater zeal to serve me.” 

Hegio is moved to tears, and exclaims : — 

“ O ye gods ! 

Behold the honest nature of these men ! 

They draw tears from me. Mark how cordially 
They love each other ! and what praise the servant 
Heaps on his master !” 

Hegio, however, soon discovers the trick, and condemns 
Tyndarus to the quarries — a punishment whose horrors the 
young man compares to “ the torments of the damned.” He 
is freed from bondage on the return of Philocrates with He- 
gio’s son — to learn that he also is a son of Hegio, stolen by 
a slave in his infancy and mourned as lost for twenty years. 
It had been his good fortune to be bought by the father of 


COMEDIES OF PLAUTUS. 


315 


Philocrates, and to grow up the companion of the young 
noble. 

After this happy denouement, the play closes with an ad- 
dress to the audience, valuable for the view it gives of the 
characters in the popular comedy. 

“Gallants, this play is founded on chaste manners; 

No amorous intrigues, no child exposed. 

No close old dotard cheated of his money. 

No youth in love, making his mistress free 
Without his father’s knowledge or consent. 

Few of this sort of plays our poets hud, 

T’ improve our morals, and make good men better. 

Now if the piece has pleased you, with our acting 
If you’re content, and we have not incurred 
Displeasure by it, give us then this token : 

All who are willing that reward should wait 
On chaste and virtuous manners, give applause.” 

Warner. 


Among the best-known of our author’s comedies are “ the 
Twins” and “the Three Silver Pieces.” In the former a se- 
ries of laughable incidents grows out of the resemblance of 
twin brothers, separated for many years and suddenly brought 
together. To this play Shakespeare owed the plot of his 
“ Comedy of Errors.” The second derives its name from 
three coins paid to a man to disguise himself as a foreigner, 
and pretend to bring a dowry of a thousand gold pieces to the 
heroine from her father, who is abroad at the time. The un- 
expected arrival of the father changes the aspect of affairs; 
but the marriage takes place, and everything ends happily. 

The best of the remaining plays of Plautus are. 


The Boastful Soldier (^Miles Glo- 
riosus). 

The Haunted House {Mostellaria). 
The Shipwreck {Rudem). 
Amphitryon. 

The Young Carthaginian (Pcenulus). 


The Pot of Gold (^Aulularia). 
The Twin Sisters {Bacchides). 
The Lost Child (Epidicus), 
The Parasite (Curculio). 

The Trickster (Pseudolus). 


Terence, “ the Prince of the Roman Drama,” flourished be* 


316 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


tween 195 and 159 B.C. Of his life the accounts are scanty 
and unsatisfactory. He appears to have been a Carthaginian 
slave-boy, the property of a Roman senator, who treated him 
with great kindness, gave him an education, and at last set 
him free. The youth’s mind matured early ; and when only 
twenty-one he submitted his first comedy, “the Andrian Maid,” 
to the ffidiles, who superintended dramatic representations, for 
their acceptance. Referred by them to Caecilius, a comic poet 
of distinction, he repaired to the house of the latter at supper- 
time, and, humbly seated on a stool, began to read his play. 
The first few verses revealed to Caecilius the genius of the 
young author ; he beckoned Terence to a seat beside him, 
heard him through, and accepted his comedy at once. 

On the performance of “ the Andrian Maid,” the reputation 
of Terence was secured. His plays paid him handsomely, 
and gave him the entree to the highest literary circles. The 
great men of Rome became his intimates ; among others, 
Scipio, the future destroyer of Carthage. They are thought 
to have encouraged Terence with the view of elevating the 
masses through his dramas, and are even suspected of hav- 
ing lent him a helping hand in their composition. 

After completing six comedies, Terence sailed for Greece, 
to travel and study there. He is believed to have translated 
over one hundred of Menander’s plays. None of these ver- 
sions survive, and they are supposed to have been lost, to- 
gether with the poet himself, on the return voyage. 

Terence, Carthaginian though he was, is distinguished for 
the exceptional purity of his Latin and the beauty of his style. 
His taste was cultivated ; his sentiments were pure ; and his 
plays put to shame many a licentious comedy of the English 
stage. In lively humor and comic effect, however, he falls 
short both of Plautus and his Greek originals. It was in al- 
lusion to the source whence he borrowed his plots that Julius 
Caesar addressed him as “ thou haif-Menander.” 


THE PLAYS OP TERENCE. 


317 


The masterpiece of Terence is the Self-Tormentor,” a copy 
of one of Menander’s lost plays. Its title is derived from the 
self-inflicted punishment of Menede'mus, an Athenian, who, 
having refused his consent to the nuptials of his son Clin'ia 
with a poor but virtuous Corinthian girl, Antiph'ila, and thus 
driven Clinia to enlist as a mercenary, is stricken with re- 
morse, leaves the city, and imposes on himself the severe toil 
of farm-life. 

Chremes, a neighboring country gentleman, noticing how 
hard Menedemus works when there is apparently no necessity 
for it, inquires the reason. The first scene represents a con- 
versation between the two, in which Menedemus, after asking 
his neighbor how he found time to pry into other people’s 
affairs, and receiving the memorable answer, — “ I am a man, 
and I have an interest in everything that concerns human- 
ity,”* — acquaints him with the state of affairs as told above. 

The love-sick Clinia now returns, and, reluctant to go to 
his father’s house, becomes the guest of Chremes’ son, Clit - 
ipho, the friend of his youth. At his entreaty, Clitipho sends 
a slave for Antiphila ; but the cunning fellow brings at the 
same time the lady-love of Clitipho himself, the dashing beauty 
Bacchis, introducing her to the family as Clinia’s mistress, and 
passing off the modest Antiphila as one of her servants. The 
slave thus describes to Clinia, Antiphila and her employments 
when he came suddenly upon her, and announced her lover’s 
return : — 

Busily plying the web we found her, 

Decently clad in mourning. She had on 
No gold or trinkets, but was plain and neat. 

And dressed like those who dress but for themselves. 

No female varnish to set off her beauty ; 

Her hair dishevelled, long, and flowing loose 
About her shoulders.” 


* When the Roman audience heard this sentiment, they shook the theatre 
with their applause. 


318 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


Chremes finds Bacchis a very expensive guest, and, an- 
nouncing to Menedemus the next morning the return of his 
son, tries to put him on his guard against the extravagant 
tastes of Clinia’s supposed mistress, but without producing 
any effect on the father thus relieved of his anxiety : — 

“ Chremes. — First, she’s brought with her half a score of maids, 
Tricked out, the jades, with gold and jewelry ; 

Why, if her lover were an Eastern prince. 

He couldn’t stand it — how on earth can you ? 

Menedemus. — Oh ! is she here, too ? 

Chremes. — Is she here, do you ask ? 

Oh ! yes, she’s here. There’s no doubt as to that. 

I know it to my cost. They’ve had one dinner. 

She and her party. If I give another 
Such as last night, why — I’m a ruined man. 

She’s very curious, mind you, as to her wines ; 

Knows the best brands — and drinks them. ‘Ha!’ she’d say, 

‘ This wine’s not dry enough, old gentleman — 

Get us some better, there’s a dear old soul !’ 

I had to tap my oldest casks. My servants 
Are driven almost wild. And this, remember. 

Was but one evening. What’s your sou to do. 

And you, my friend, that will have to keep her always ? 

Menedemus. — Let him do what he will : let him take all, 

Spend, squander it upon her ; I’m content, 

So I may keep my son.” — C ollins. 

The play is full of amusing incidents, — the intrusions of the 
eager Clitipho on the pretended love-making of his adored 
Bacchis and Clinia — the indignation of Chremes at his son’s 
seeming want of politeness — the cozening of Chremes by the 
clever slave out of a large sum for his young master to give 
to Bacchis. The discovery that Antiphila is Chremes’ own 
daughter, whom, at her birth, his wife had given to a Corinthi- 
•an woman to expose, adds fresh interest to the plot. The 
marriage takes place to the delight of all parties. Chremes is 
persuaded to forgive his son, who promises to abandon Bac- 
chis for a more modest wife. The “ Self-Tormentor ” is happy 
at last, and can afford to indulge in a hearty laugh at the mis- 
fortunes of his neighbor. 


DECLINE OF THE DEAMA. 


3iy 


I don’t profess myself to be a genius — 

I’m not so sharp as some folk — that I know ; 

But this same Chremes — this my monitor, 

My would-he guide, philosopher, and friend. 

He heats me hollow. Blockhead, donkey, dolt. 
Fool, leaden-brains, and all those pretty names — 
They might suit me; to him they don’t apply : 
His monstrous folly wants a name to itself.” 


The extant comedies of Terence are, 


The Andrian Maid (Andj’ia). 

The Mother-in-law {Hecyra). 

The Self-Tormentor {Hexmtonthno- 
rounmws). 


The Eunuch {Eunuchus). 

Phormio (taken wholly from a Greek 
comedy of Apollodorus). 

The Brothers (Adelphi). 


Decline of the Drama. — While the comedies of Terence 
were drawing crowded houses, tragedy, which Ennius attempt- 
ed to popularize, that the heroic examples of early times might 
be emulated by his countrymen, was successfully cultivated by 
his nephew Pacuvius “the Learned” (220-132 B.C.). The 
thirteen tragedies of Pacuvius (an accomplished painter as 
well as poet) were long favorites, particularly with the educated 
classes. The finest of them, “ Orestes in Slavery,” contained 
the famous scene between the bosom friends Py'lades and 
Orestes, in which each offers his life for the other. At its 
representation, the audience leaped to their feet and shouted 
their applause. 

But Rome was no genial home for the tragic drama, and 
both tragedy and comedy soon began to languish. With 
Terence, the glory of the Roman theatre expired. Rope- 
dancing, buffoonery, and the games of the circus, offered supe- 
rior attractions ; and as the Republic lapsed into the Empire, 
the degenerate taste of the people sought gratification in the 
sports of the arena, where gladiators fought together or with 
wild beasts hardly more' of brutes than themselves. In this 
first period of the national literature, the history of the Roman 
drama is written. {Read MommserCs ‘•’■History of RomeR) 


320 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


EPIC POETRY. 

NaBvius, meanwhile, ventured to appeal to the popular taste 
in a new department of poetry, with his epic, “ the (First) Punic 
War ” — in which contest, it will be remembered, the poet took 
an active part. It was written during his banishment at Uti- 
ca, after he had signalized himself as a dramatist at Rome, 
and was a work which Cicero said “ afforded him a pleasure 
as exquisite as the finest statue ever chiselled by Myron.” 

“The Punic War” entitles Naevius to the claim of original- 
ity as well as genius. The episode of Dido and ^neas, the 
career of Regulus, and other soul -stirring stories, were told 
in its Saturnian lines; and it must ever be a matter of re- 
gret that so interesting a poem is virtually lost to literature. 
Naevius is called “the last of the native minstrels.” 

Ennius (239-169 B.C.). — In Ennius we are introduced to a 
greater epic poet, and the founder of a new school. Brought 
to Rome, as we have seen, by Cato, he taught the young no- 
bles Greek, translated dramas from that tongue, and devoted 
his leisure to poetical composition. A panegyric on Scipio 
decided his destiny ; he rapidly rose in the estimation of the 
distinguished men of the time, and in 184 B.C. was made a 
Roman citizen — an honor to which Livius Andronicus had 
never aspired, and which Naevius sought in vain. 

Though a friend of the wealthy and powerful, Ennius him- 
self seems never to have been rich in this world’s goods. A 
genial bon vivant, he spent his earnings in extravagant living ; 
and much of his poetry was written while he was confined by 
the gout, a disease brought on by intemperate habits. Hor 
ace, perhaps, exaggerates his failing when he tells us that 
“Father Ennius never sung battles unless intoxicated.” The 
family tomb of his friend Scipio became the final resting-place 
of Ennius ; and from his time the name of poet was honored 
by the aristocracy of Rome. 


EPIC POETRY OP ENNIUS. 


321 


Ennius owes his fame chiefly to his “ Annals,” an historical 
epic, the work of his old age. Here he wove together the an- 
cient legends and folk-lore of the Romans handed down in 
Saturnian ballads, with later accredited events, and contem- 
porary history, accomplishing the difflcult task of adapting 
the old Latin to dactylic hexameters. Greek metres hence- 
forth superseded the irregular Saturnian verse, the syllables 
being arranged according to quantity, and not as before by 
accent. Moreover, the language was indebted to him not 
only for this improved versification, but for fresh elements of 
strength, and grammatical changes for the better. Thus En- 
nius introduced a new era in Roman literature, laying solid 
foundations on which his successors built. He is recognized 
as “the father of Latin song,” and it has been well said: 
“Whatever in the later poets is most truly Roman in senti- 
ment and morality, appears to be conceived in the spirit of 
Ennius.” 

Ennius had a high opinion of his own talents ; he deemed 
himself the Roman Homer, and claimed, in accordance with 
the Pythagorean doctrines, that the soul of the Greek bard 
had passed into his frame from the intermediate body of a 
peacock. And indeed his spirited battle-scenes, his “ verses 
fiery to the heart’s core,” sometimes recalled his sublime pro- 
totype ; while an air of antiquity breathed in his picturesque 
style and archaic forms. 

The poet’s self-praise was echoed by his countrymen. Cic- 
ero proudly styled him “ our own Ennius Virgil enriched 
the ^neid with his most musical verses ; Horace hailed him 
as “the Calabrian Muse.” The triumphs of Rome and her 
heroes were often told in the verse that he made familiar ; 
even during the Dark Ages his works remained favorites, un- 
til in the thirteenth century they gradually sunk into ob- 
scurity. {Read Sellar's Roman Poets of the Republic^) 

The versatile genius of Ennius displayed itself in satires. 


322 


BOMAN LITERATURE. 


epigrams, and didactic poems, as well as in epics and dramas. 
A curious specimen of his composition was his metrical trea- 
tise on edible fish, a compilation from a number of existing 
works on the subject. 

From the fragments that remain of “the Annals” (600 
lines in all) we present one of the most pleasing passages, — 
that in which the vestal Il'ia tells her elder sister a dream 
she has had, foreshadowing her great destiny as the mother 
of Romulus, founder of Rome. 

ILIA’S DREAM. 

Quick rose the aged dame, with tremhliug limbs 
The light to bring ; and Ilia then, from sleep aroused, 

With tears and terror tells her wondrous dream : — 

“Child of Eurydice, by oiir sire beloved. 

Through all my fibres fail my strength and life. 

A goodly man, methoiight, bore me away 
Through pleasant willow-groves and places strange. 

Next, all alone I seemed to wander desolate. 

And slowly, sister, to retrace my steps. 

Thee seeking but not finding ; nor did path 
Steady my steps. Soon a familiar voice — 

My father’s — thus with pitying accents spoke: 

‘ Daughter, ’tis thine deep sorrow to endure ; 

This borne, thy great good fortune then is sure !’ 

He spoke, and suddenly departing, gave 
To my fond yearning arms no sweet embrace. 

Alas! I saw him not, though eagerly 

To the blue vault of heaven I stretched my hands. 

And called on him with loving tones. At last. 

With aching heart sleep left me, and I woke.” 

The “Annals” were continued, and Homer’s Iliad was ren- 
dered into Latin hexameters, by imitators of Ennius. But 
they were third or fourth rate men, and epic poetry really 
slumbered after Ennius passed from the stage, till it wakened 
to new triumphs at the call of Virgil. 

SATIRIC POETRY. 

In this era, we have to chronicle the birth of a new plant in 
the parterre of Roman literature — Satirical Poetry. It was 


LUCILIUS. 


323 


no exotic, but native-born. The germ appeared in Naevius, 
the bud in Ennius, the full-blown blossom in Lucilius, the 
ripe fruit in the golden age of Augustus ; the leaves were 
still green in the declining days of the empire. 

Lucilius (148-103 B.C.), aRoman knight who fought under 
Scipio at the siege of Numantia, converted the miscellanies 
{saturce) of Ennius into true satire. Though a mere youth, 
he was intimate with Rome’s greatest statesmen, who were 
accustomed to doflf their dignity in his lively society, and even 
to frolic with him before dinner. Shielded by them, and tak- 
ing as his standard the stern morality and lofty patriotism of 
the fathers, he assailed with impunity prevalent social vices, 
ridiculed superstition, and denounced political corruption. 

In bold relief against this dark background he brought out 
the noble qualities of Scipio. Always arrayed on the side of 
virtue, he devoted his brilliant talents to the improvement of 
the public morals. Yet he occasionally stooped to abuse, if 
we may believe the story that, having once sued a person for 
attacking his character, he lost his case because it was shown 
that he himself was not above similar practices. 

The satires of Lucilius were embraced in thirty books, many 
fragments of which are extant. His style is forcible and not 
without elegance, though some of his verses are harsh and oc- 
casional Greek words lower the standard of his Latinity. He 
composed with haste, often standing on one foot while he 
dictated two hundred verses. His satires, had they been 
preserved, would have been valuable as a mirror of Roman 
manners. 

VIRTUE AS DEFINED BY LUCILIUS. 

Virtue, Albinus, consists in being able to give their true worth 
to the things on which we are engaged, among which we live. The 
virtue of a man is to understand the real meaning of each thing : to 
understand what is right, useful, honorable, for him ; what things 
are good, what bad, what is unprofitable, base, dishonorable ; to 
know the due limit and measure in making money; to give its prop* 

O 


324 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


er worth to wealth ; to assign what is really due to honor ; to be a 
foe and enemy of bad men and bad principles; to stand by good 
men and good principles ; to extol the good, to wish them well, to 
be their friend through life. Lastly, it is true worth to look on our 
country’s weal as the chief good ; next to that, the weal of our par- 
ents ; third and last, our own weal.” — Sellar. 

EARLY LATIN PROSE. 

In her prose, Rome owed but little to Greece. Had she 
never known the Greek masters, she might not have pro- 
duced a poetical literature, but she would have had her great 
orators and historians. Statesmanship was the natural pro- 
fession of her nobles and educated men ; jurisprudence and 
oratory were essential accomplishments of the aspirant to 
public honors ; and Latin was peculiarly adapted to prose 
composition, which appears to have been practised very early 
in Latium. The development of this primitive, yet nervous, 
prose was not left to Greek slaves and freedmen, but called 
forth the efforts of the foremost citizens, — Cato the Censor, 
Laelius and Scipio, the Gracchus brothers, Crassus and An- 
tonins, Hortensius. In the period under consideration it 
began to lose its ruggedness, and acquire polish, grace, and 
harmony. 

Cato (234-149 B.C.). — The early historians of Rome, fol- 
lowing the example of Fabius Pictor, the first of her prose 
annalists, employed the Greek language. It was the elder 
Cato, the Censor and moralist, the inflexible enemy of all that 
was Greek, whose warning voice foretold the national corrup- 
tion that must follow the introduction of Hellenic literature ; 
it was Cato, the philosopher, orator, and historian, who digni- 
fied Latin prose by embodying in it his vigorous thoughts. 

Inured from boyhood to hard toil and simple fare on his 
father’s Sabine farm, Cato took an active part in the war 
against Hannibal, returning after the conflict to his humble 
rustic life. But his country soon demanded his services in 
another field ; at her bar he won even greater glory, and she 


CATO THE CENSOR. 


825 


rewarded him with every office in her gift. Cato nobly dis- 
charged his various trusts ; but it is as the uncompromising 
foe of effeminacy and vice that we know him best. His polit- 
ical life, a model of economy and uprightness, was a ceaseless 
battle with corruption — a struggle to banish the luxury he 
despised and restore the stern virtue of his fathers. But it 
was one man against a nation, and the current was too strong 
for one alone to stem. He served Rome to the bitter end, 
and fell in the traces at the age of ninety, his energies unim- 
paired, his purpose unshaken. 

Amid all his active duties, Cato, whose constitution like 
his will was of iron, found time for literary work. He is 
known to have written at least one hundred and fifty orations, 
not without faults of style, for the amenities he was too apt to 
disregard, but cogent in their reasoning, clear and powerful in 
expression. Extensive remains of his practical hand-book 
“on Agriculture” are extant, which show him to have been 
familiar with all the details of the farm and garden. In a 
work on medicine, dedicated to his son, he exclaims against 
the Greek physicians, and recommends the simple remedies 
which he had always found efficacious. His prejudice against 
medical men was founded on the belief that their introduc- 
tion from Greece was a deep-laid plot to poison his fellow- 
citizens ; moreover, he knew that Rome had thriven marvel- 
lously for five centuries, in blissful ignorance of the medical 
faculty. 

Cato’s chief work was his “ Origines ” (in seven books), a 
history of his country, deriving its name from the first three 
books, which discussed the origin of Rome and the Italian 
states. The aged patriot prepared this treatise just before 
his death, to throw it into the scale against Greek influence ; 
but not a hundred Catos could have turned the balance then. 
The loss of the “ Origines ” is an irreparable one to archae- 
ology 


326 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


SPECIMENS OF CATO’S STYLE. 

“For myself, I think well of a merchant as a man of energy and 
studious of gain ; but it is a career that leads to danger and ruin. 
Farming, however, makes the bravest men and the sturdiest sol- 
diers } and of all sources of gain is the surest, the most natural, and 
the least invidious. Those who are busy with it have the fewest 
bad thoughts.” — Treatise on Agriculture. 

“ Buy not what you want, but what you must have ; what yon 
don’t want is dear at a farthing.” — “Men are worn out by hard 
work 5 but if they do no work, rest and sloth injure them more than 
exercise.” 

HEROISM OF C^DICIUS. 

During the First Punic War the Roman army was surprised and 
threatened with destruction, when Csedicius the Tribune promptly 
volunteered to engage the euemy with 400 men, while the rest es- 
caped. The little band was cut down to a man. 

“ The immortal gods,” said Cato, “ granted the tribune a lot ac- 
cording to his valor. For thus it came to pass. Though he had re- 
ceived many wounds, none proved mortal ; and when his comrades 
recognized him among the dead, faint from loss of blood, they took 
him up and he recovered. But it makes a vast difference in what 
country a generous action is performed. Leonidas of Lacedaemon, 
who performed a similar exploit at Thermopylae, is praised. On ac- 
count of his valor, united Greece testified her gratitude in every pos- 
sible way, and adorned his exploit with monumental records, pict- 
ures, statues, eulogies, histories. The Roman tribune gained but 
faint praise, and yet he had done the same and saved the republic.” 
— Origines. 

LsBlius and Scipio followed Cato, and improved upon his 
rude eloquence. Their speeches, which were committed to 
writing, bore the impress of learning and genius. 

The Gracchi (169-121 B.C.), sons of the noble Cornelia, 
Scipio^s daughter, to whom they owed their early' education, 
introduced a new era in Roman eloquence, and have been 
called “ the founders of classical Latin.” Both gave up their 
lives in the interest of the Commons. 

Tiberius, the elder, was the impersonation of clear-headed, 
dispassionate, argumentative oratory. Caius, the younger, of 
greater intellectual power, declaimed with such impetuosity 
that it was his custom to keep a slave at his side to remind 


THE EARLY ORATORS. 


327 


him with the note of a flute when his vehemence became im- 
moderate. Cicero inclined to the belief that, had not Caius 
Gracchus met an untimely death, he would have been the 
most brilliant representative of Roman eloquence. Nothing 
remains of the speeches of Tiberius, and the few fragments 
we possess of Caius indicate a want of finish. 

Antonius and Crassus were the most distinguished speak- 
ers of the period that separated the Gracchi from Cicero. 
Both were diligent students of Greek literature, though both 
sought to conceal their indebtedness to it. Crassus excelled 
in the elegance of his language; Antonius, in gesture. 

Hortensius (114-50 B.C.). — Crassus, in the last year of his 
life, highly complimented the young Hortensius, whose prom- 
ise as an orator he was quick to discern. After the death 
of Antonius (87 B.C.), Hortensius became “prince of the 
Roman bar,” a position which he enjoyed until eclipsed by 
the superior genius of Cicero (70 B.C.). During his early 
manhood he labored with untiring industry, turning his re- 
markable memory to good account. His style was ornate, 
his voice perfect ; his gestures were so graceful that actors 
came to learn their art from him ; never before had Rome 
listened to a flow of language so copious and elegant. As a 
matter of course his services were in great demand, and 
hardly a day passed in which he did not either speak or 
prepare a speech. 

Thus Hortensius accumulated a vast fortune, which proved 
his stumbling-block. Wealth begot a love of luxury, his en- 
ergy gave way to indolence, and he quietly yielded the first 
place to his youthful rival. His luxurious villas, with their 
deer-parks, and gardens whose plants he watered with wine, 
were more to Hortensius than the victories of the forum. In 
these charming retreats he loved to entertain his friends, and 
exhibit to them his menagerie and tame fish— for which he 
showed more concern than for his servants. The death of a 


328 


KOMAN LITERATUKE. 


favorite lamprey affected him to tears. At his luxurious man- 
sion in Rome, the nucleus of the future imperial palace, pea- 
cocks were served for the first time at a feast. 

The orator’s tastes, however, w'ere aesthetic as well ; he 
wrote poetry, and expended large sums on statues and paint- 
ings. His orations are lost. Only the merest fragments of 
all the above prose writers survive. 


MINOR DRAMATIC POETS. 


Lavinius, the rival of Terence, who | 
jealously interrupted the perform- 
ance of the “ Eunuch,” denouncing 
its author as a plagiarist; yet this 
play brought Terence more than had 
ever before been paid for a comedy. 


Turpilius (125 B.C.), a popular comic 
poet. 

Accius (170-94 B.C.), the last of the 
tragic poets ; 37 tragedies, borrowed 
to a great extent from the Greek; 
diction majestic and eloquent. 


Early Roman theatres, temporary wooden structures ; first stone theatre built 
by Pompey (55 B.C.), capable of accommodating 40,000 spectators. Pompey’s 
example promptly followed by others. The orchestra reserved for the chief men 
of Rome, and not occupied by the chorus as in ancient Greece. Awnings for 
theatres invented by the Romans. The vast size of the later theatres obliged 
the actors to wear masks with features much larger than life and arranged at 
the mouth so as to give additional force to the voice. 


MINOR PROSE WRITERS. 


HISTORIANS. 

Fabius Pictor: “Annals” of Rome, 
from the founding of the city to the 
end of the Second Punic War ; care- 
less and inaccurate. 

CiNCius (210 B.C.) : a truthful and dili- 
gent annalist. 

Acilius Glabrio (180 B.C.) : History 
of Rome. 

Calpurnius Piso: “Annals;” style 
barren and lifeless. 

SisENNA (119-67 B.C.) : History of 
Rome from the destruction of the 
city by the Gauls. 


ORATORS. 

Galba (180-136 B.C.) : first master of 
Greek rhetoric; vehemence and ar- 
tifice his characteristics. 

Carbo (164-119 B.C.) : an unscrupu- 
lous, but sweet-voiced and powerful 
pleader. 

Rutiltus (158-78 B.C.); a distin- 
guished jurist. 

Catulus: graceful and elegant; a 
master of pure Latin. 

Cotta : soft-spoken and courteous ; his 
eloquence of the sweet, persuasive 
kind. 


THE GOLDEN AGE. 


329 


Study of grammar introduced by Crates, who, fortunately for the Romans, 
broke his leg while on an embassy to their city from the king of Pergamus (156 
B.C.), and during his convalescence lectured on philology at Rome. The earli- 
est works on Roman law were produced during this period. 


CHAPTER III. 

GOLDEN AGE OF ROMAN LITERATURE. 

(B.C. 80-14 A.D.) 

Divisions and Ornaments.— The Golden Age, which now 
engages our attention, is naturally divided into two distinct 
periods, bearing the names of Cicero, the greatest of Ro- 
man writers, and Augustus, the founder of the empire and 
patron of letters. 

In the Ciceronian Period (80-43 B.C.), a stormy era of 
conspiracy as well as conquest — marked by Catiline’s formi- 
dable attempt to destroy the commonwealth, by the civil war 
of Caesar and Pompey, and the murder of these renowned 
leaders — political eloquence and history monopolized the at- 
tention of the master minds of Rome. As a consequence, 
Latin prose matured early in the golden age ; while poetry 
boasted of no ornaments until, at the close of the Cicero- 
nian Period, Lucretius penned his philosophical poem “On 
the Nature of Things,” and Catullus produced his erotic odes 
and elegies. 

In the Augustan Period (B.C. 42-14 A.D.), the greatest 
of Roman poets, Virgil and Horace, lived and wrote, prose 
playing a secondary part. Tibullus and Propertius put forth 
their sweet elegies, and Ovid his amatory pieces. Even the 
pages of Livy’s history are aglow with poetical coloring. But 
the blossom was as transient as it was beautiful, and expand- 
ed only to die. 


330 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 



training Cicero sedulously supplemented with a course on 
Roman law under Scaevola, avoiding the whirl of dissipation 
that surrounded him, and even relinquishing social pleasure 
for the labors of his closet or to study in the forum the style 
of the first public speakers. “Who can blame me,” he asked 
in his oration for Archias, “ if while others are gazing at festal 
shows and idle ceremonies, exploring new pleasures, engaged 


PROSE WRITERS OP THE CICERONIAN PERIOD. 

Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 B.C.) was born at Arpi'- 
num, a Latian town south-east of Rome. As his family (of 
equestrian rank) had never distinguished itself, he is known 
as a novus homo {new man). Detecting unusual talent in the 
boy, his father resolved to develop it by a thorough education, 
which he himself superintended at Rome. The most ac- 
complished teachers were secured, the Greek poet Archias 
among the number, and the youth was thoroughly grounded 
in grammar, rhetoric, and Grecian literature. This early 


MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO. 


331 


in midnight revels, in the distraction of gaming, the madness 
of intemperance, I dedicate my time to learning and the 
Muses ?” 

At twenty-five Cicero made his ddbut ; and within two 
years he rose to the highest rank at the Roman bar by ably 
pleading the cause of one Roscius against a friend of the 
terrible Sulla. Successful in this case, to escape the ven- 
geance of the dictator as well as to recruit his failing health, 
Cicero went abroad. At Athens he pursued the study of 
philosophy with Pompo'nius Atticus, the companion of his 
boyhood and ever after his warmest friend. In the schools 
of Asia Minor, as well as at Rhodes, then a great literary 
centre, he studied under distinguished teachers, storing his 
memory with valuable knowledge at the same time that he 
made himself proficient in the rhetorical art. The death of 
Sulla having removed all danger, at the age of thirty he went 
back to Italy, thoroughly restored by his travels, and fired 
with the noble ambition of making himself the Demosthenes 
of Rome. Step by step he approached the realization of his 
hopes, and when, in the prosecution of Verres, the rapacious 
governor of Sicily, he triumphed over Hortensius (70 B.C.), 
his end was practically achieved. 

Cicero served his country in many capacities, but in none 
more effectively than as consul ; since, while holding this 
office (63-62 B.C.), he saved the republic from a dangerous 
conspirac}^ headed by the profligate Catiline. The consul’s 
tact and courage were sorely tried, but prevailed. Four 
crushing orations laid bare the plans of the traitor and drove 
him from me city, to fall in a desperate battle with the Ro- 
man legions, while a grateful nation greeted the vigilant Cicero 
as “the Fathei oi ms Country.” 

But the Roman people were fickle, and at the instigation 
of an enemy banished Cicero from the city he had saved, 
cS B C The next year, however, the decree was revoked, 
^ ’ 0 2 


332 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


and he returned. When the civil war between Caesar and 
Pompey was imminent, Cicero’s indecision told powerfully 
against him.* At last he joined Pompey, who, provoked at 
his vacillation, exclaimed : “ I wish that Cicero would go over 
to the other side ; perhaps he would then be afraid of us.” 
The battle of Pharsalia (48 B.C.) overthrew the hopes of the 
party whose cause he had espoused, and Cicero, returning to 
Italy, accepted the rule and friendship of Caesar, and settled 
down to a literary life. 

Shortly after, a plot is laid against the dictator; the fatal 
Ides (15th) of March (44 B.C.) arrive; the assassins do their 
bloody work in the senate-house ; and Brutus, flourishing his 
traitorous dagger, cries to Cicero : “ Rejoice, O Father of our 
Country, for Rome is free !” 

But it was grief, not joy, that the dagger of Brutus brought 
to the Republic ; another Pompey and another Caesar arose 
to contend for the mastery of the world. Marc Antony as- 
pired to the dead dictator’s place ; but Cicero, now the fore- 
most statesman in Rome, regarding him as the enemy of lib- 
erty, upheld the cause of the people and of Octavius, Caesar’s 
young nephew. Into the struggle that ensued, he entered 
with all the spirit of his youth, thundering against Antony his 
grand “ Philippics,” in the second of which are concentrated 
all his powers of invective, passion, and eloquence. It is 
Cicero’s mightiest effort. 

FROM THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 

“ When, therefore, this fellow {Antony) had begun to wallow in the 
treasures of that great man, he began to exult like a buffoon in a 


* A Roman knight, Laberius, who had lost caste by appearing on the stage, 
made a good hit at Cicero, for his political non-committalism. As he was going 
to his place in the theatre one day, Cicero, who was seated in the orchestra 
called out to him, “ Laberius, I would make room for you, if we were not so 
crowded here.”— “You crowded !” answered Laberius. “Why, how is that? 
you generally manage to sit on two stools.” 


EXTRACT FROM ClCERo’s ORATIONS. 


333 


X»lay, who has lately been a beggar aud has become suddenly rich.^ 
But, as some poet or other says, 

% 

‘ Ill-gotten gains come quickly to an end.’ 

It is an incredible thing, and almost a miracle, how he in a few, not 
months, but days, squandered all that vast wealth. There was an 
immense quantity of wine, an excessive abundance of very valuable 
l)late, much x)recious apparel, great quantities of splendid furniture, 
aud other maguiliceut things in many places, such as one was likely 
to see belonging to a man who was not indeed luxurious, hut who 
was very wealthy. Of all this in a few days there was nothing left. 
What Charybdis was ever so voracious ? Charybdis, do I say ? Cha- 
ry bdis, if she existed at all, was only one animal. The ocean, I swear 
most solemnly, appears hardly capable of having swallowed up such 
numbers of things so widely scattered, aud distributed in such difter- 
eut places, with such rajndity. 

Nothing was shut uj), nothing sealed uj), no list was made of anj"- 
thing. Whole storehouses were abandoned to the most worthless of 
men. Actors seized on this, actresses on that ; the house was crowd- 
ed with gamblers, and full of drunken men ; peojde were drinking 
all day, aud that too in many places ; there were added to all this 
expense (for this fellow w as not invariably fortunate) heavy gam- 
bling losses. You might see, in the cellars of the slaves, couches cov- 
ered with the most richly embroidered counterpanes of Cneius Pom- 
pey. Wonder not, then, that all these things were so soon consumed. 
Such profligacy as that could have devoured, not only the patrimony 
of one individual, however ample it might have been, but whole cities 
and kingdoms. 

And then his houses and gardens! O the cruel audacity! Did 
you dare to enter into that house ? Did you dare to cross that most 
sacred threshold ? and to show your most profligate countenance to 
the household gods wdio jirotect that abode ? A house which for a 
long time no one could behold, no one could pass by, w^ithout tears ! 
Are you not ashamed to dwell so long in that house— one in which, 
stupid and ignorant as you are, still you can see nothing which is not 
painful to you ? 

When you behold those beaks of ships in the vestibule, and those 
warlike trophies, do you fancy that you are entering into a house 
which belongs to you? It is impossible. Although you are devoid 
of all sense and all feeling, still you are acquainted with yourself, 
and with your trophies, and wdth your friends. Nor do I believe 
that you, either waking or sleeping, can ever act with quiet sense. 

It is impossible but that, were you ever so drunk and frantic, as in 


* Allusion is here made to Antony’s purchase of the goods of Pompey the 
Great, at auction, after the defeat of the latter in the civil war. 


334 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


truth you are, when the recollection of the appearance of that illus- 
trious man conies across you, you should be roused from sleep by your 
fears, and often stirred up to madness if awake. I pity even the walls 
aud the roof.’’ — Y onge. 

The patriot paid for his stanch defence of freedom .with his 
life. Octavius and Antony, becoming reconciled, formed with 
Lepidus the Second Triumvirate, or board of three, to govern 
the Roman world ; and Cicero knew that the sun of liberty 
had set. The triumvirs agreed upon a general proscription 
of their enemies. A reign of terror deluged Italy with blood, 
but the noblest of those who fell was Cicero. 

Antony demanded his life, and Octavius covered himself 
with infamy by yielding it. The orator met his fate near his 
villa at Formiae ; timid throughout his life, in the last scene he 
exhibited manly fortitude. He is said to have been calmly 
reading the “ Medea” of Euripides in his litter when Antony’s 
myrmidons overtook him ; a desperado who owed him many 
favors, while even his brutal companions covered their eyes, 
struck the fatal blow. The head and hands of the murdered 
orator were cut off and sent to Antony, whose inhuman wife, 
as she fondled the ghastly head in her lap, maliciously thrust 
her bodkin into the tongue that had denounced her husband. 
— True as it was, it ill became the time-serving Octavius to 
say, when afterward wielding the sceptre of the world as Au- 
gustus Caesar, “ Cicero was a good citizen, who really loved 
his country.” 

Cicero’s Works. — Cicero was emphatically a many-sided 
man, and filled a wide space in Roman literature. Though 
he excelled chiefly in oratory, he has left us, besides fifty-nine 
orations, a number of philosophical treatises, essays, and many 
letters to his friend Atticus, his brother, and other correspond- 
ents. While deeply absorbed in public duties, he found op- 
portunities, without neglecting these, to pursue the study of 
philosophy, having in view not only his own relaxation, but 


CICERO’s PHILOSOPHICAL WRITINGS. 


335 


also the moral advancement of his countrymen. His works 
on this subject, some of which, for the sake of interest and 
variety, he wrote in the form of dialogues, present a valuable 
survey of the Greek systems. They assert his belief in the 
existence of one Supreme Creator and the immortality of the 
soul. {See Mayors “^4 Sketch of Ancie7it Philosophy S) 

Cicero’s chief philosophical writings are “the Tusculan 
Disputations,” imaginary discussions of various practical ques- 
tions at the author’s Tusculan villa, — the scorn of death, the 
endurance of suffering, etc. ; “ the Offices,” a moral essay ; 
treatises “On Friendship” and “On Old Age,”.justly consid- 
ered as among the most charming productions of their class 
in any literature ; political dissertations “ On the Republic ” 
and “ On Laws and a theological disquisition “On the Nat- 
ure of the Gods.” 

THE END OF LIFE. 

[From Cicero’s Treatise on Old Age.] 

“ An old man, indeed, lias nothing to hope for ; yet he is in so much 
the happier state than a young one ; since he has already attained 
what the other is only hoping for. The one is wishing to live long, 
the other has lived long. And yet, good gods ! what is there in man’s 
life that can be called long ? To my mind, nothing whatever seems 
of long duration, in which there is any end. For when that arrives, 
then the time which is past has flowed away ; that only remains 
which you have secured by virtue and right conduct. Hours indeed 
depart from us, and days, and months, and years ; nor does past time 
ever return, nor can it be discovered what is to follow. 

Whatever time is assigned to each to live, with that he ought to he 
content : for neither need the drama be performed entire by the act- 
or, in order to give satisfaction, provided he be approved in whatever 
act he may be ; nor need the wise man live till the plmidite* The 
short period of life is long enough for living well and honorably ; and 
if you should advance farther, you need no more grieve than farmers 
do, when the loveliness of spring-time hath passed, that summer and 
autumn have come. For spring represents the time of youth, and 
gives promise of the future fruits ; the remaining seasons are intend- 
ed for plucking and gathering those fruits. Now the harvest of old 
age, as I have often said, is the recollection and abundance of bless- 
ings previously secured. 


* The last word of the play, which invites the applause of the audience 


336 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


In truth, everything that happens agreeably to nature is to he 
reckoned among blessings. What, however, is so agreeable to nature 
as for an old man to die ? which even is the lot of the young, though 
nature opposes and resists. And thus it is that young men seem to 
me to die, just as when the violence of flame is extinguished by a 
flood of water ; whereas old men die, as the exhausted fire goes out, 
spontaneously, without the exertion of any force. And as fruits 
when they are green are plucked by force from the trees, but when 
ripe and mellow dro^) off, so violence takes away their lives from 
youths, maturity from old men ; a state which to me indeed is so de- 
lightful that, the nearer I approach to death, I seem as it were to be 
getting sight of land, and at length, after a long voyage, to be just 
coming into harbor.’’ — Edmonds. 

Cicero also wrote a treatise “ On Glory,” now lost. It was 
once in the possession of Petrarch, who commends it in the 
most flattering terms. The Italian poet was induced to lend 
it to his aged preceptor ; but the latter, driven by poverty, se- 
cretly put the work in pawn and died without making known 
its whereabouts. It never saw the light afterward ; although 
it is supposed to have been destroyed two centuries later by a 
plagiarist, who had helped himself to some of its fine periods. 

As a letter-writer, Cicero excels all others. It was the cus- 
tom of his countrymen to bestow as great pains on private 
correspondence as on works intended for publication ; and his 
epistles, eight hundred of which survive, are simple, elegant, 
and glow with wit, though some of them were written so fast 
as to be almost illegible. {Consult Jeans'' s '“'‘Life and Letters 
of Cicero ; Church's "'■Roman Life in the Days of CiceroR) 

Our author also turned his hand to history and poetry, but 
with indifferent success. His works were extremely popular 
among his contemporaries, some of them selling by the thou- 
sand. 

Cicero’s Style. — Cicero has always been commended for 
the cadence of his periods. The art of framing harmonious 
balanced sentences was his special study, and the Latin lan- 
guage, which he perfected in beauty and richness, was well 
adapted to his purpose. His style is often exuberant, for he 


CICERO’s STYLE, 


337 


cultivated the flowers of rhetoric. Character he sketched 
with a powerful .pen, and his speeches are enlivened with 
abundant illustrations drawn from the wonderful storehouse 
of his memory. Too often, however, vanity crops out, to mar 
the effect. 

Quintilian declared that as an orator Cicero combined “ the 
force of Demosthenes, the copiousness of Plato, and the ele- 
gance of Isocrates.” Through all his works flows a current 
of mingled majesty and sweetness. Merivale aptly styles him 
“ the most consummate specimen of the Roman character un- 
der the influence of Hellenic culture.” 

CICERO ON PROVIDENCE. 

[From the Treatise on the Nature of the Gods.] 

“ There are aud have been philosophers who have given it as their 
opinion that the gods exercise no superintending care whatever over 
human affairs. Now, if the opinion of these men be true, what be- 
comes of piety? what of public wmrship ? what of religion itself? 
For all these marks of homage are to be rendered in a pure and holy 
spirit unto the majesty of the gods, only in case they are observed by 
these same, and in case any favor has been bestowed by the immortal 
gods on the race of men. If, however, the gods are neither able nor 
willing to assist us; if they take no care whatever of us; if they 
mark not what we do ; if there is nothing that can come from them 
and exercise an influence on the lives of men, — what reason is there 
why we are to pay any adoration, render any honors, offer any pray- 
ers, to the immortal gods ? 

Piety, just as much as the other virtues, cannot exist in outward 
show aud empty feignings; while along with piety, both public 
worship and religion itself must of necessity be done away with. 
Remove these, and a great disturbance and total confusion of life 
ensue. Nay, indeed, I do not know whether, if piety toward the 
gods be removed, good faith also, and every social tie that binds to- 
gether the human race, and justice too, that most excellent of all 
virtues, would not be removed along witli it.” — Charles Anthon. 

Varro (116-28 B.C.). — The great central sun of the Repub- 
lican Era was Cicero, compared with whom the brightest of 
his contemporaries seem but as lesser luminaries whose light 
is swallowed up in his. Of these, Marcus Terentius Varro 


338 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


was perhaps the greatest. Years of incessant application, 
which a boyhood passed among the Sabine mountains at 
Reate {re'd-te) had prepared him to endure, won for Varro 
the proud title “ Most Learned of the Romans.” 

During the civil war, Varro sided with Pompey. After the 
triumph of Caesar, he retired from public life to his favorite 
studies, the victor magnanimously recognizing his merit by 
placing him in charge of the public library at Rome. The 
material results of his literary labors enabled him to live like 
a prince, and we find him the proprietor of three sumptuous 
country-seats, one of which was celebrated for its costly mar- 
ble aviary of three thousand song-birds — Varro’s pets. 

All this wealth did not escape the notice of the rapacious 
triumvirs after the assassination of Caesar. The name of 
Varro, then more than seventy, was placed on the proscrip- 
tion list ; his property was confiscated ; and Antony sacked 
his beautiful villa at Casi'num, committing his invaluable li- 
brary to the flames. The old man owed his life to friends, 
who concealed him from his implacable foe till the order for 
his murder was countermanded. Augustus afterward re- 
stored his fortune, but Varro always keenly missed the so- 
ciety of his books. At the advanced age of eighty, he com- 
posed, in dialogue form, an admirable work On Husbandry,” 
written in a brisk and entertaining style. 

The genius of Varro was remarkably versatile ; as over six 
hundred different books on various subjects, in both prose 
and verse, abundantly testify. In fertility he surpassed all 
other Romans ; and we can but wonder, with St. Augustine, 
how he found time to write so much. His most creditable 
work was his “ Antiquities Divine and Human,” a lost treas- 
ure, of which the present age, with its profound interest in the 
religions of the past, severely feels the want. 

Varro also prepared a treatise “On the Latin Language,” 
edited a popular encyclopaedia of the liberal arts, and wrote 


JULIUS C^SAR. 


339 


on history. Throughout his works he appears as a pure pa- 
triot, a defender of ancient simplicity and virtue. His satires 
on effeminacy and affectation are caustic; no one can help 
enjoying his humorous etchings of the spruce dandy, the 
dainty epicure, and the finical poet who gargles his throat 
before reciting his pieces. In every kind of writing that 
he attempted (and there was little he did not attempt) he 
is worthy of respect : the familiar line from Dr. Johnson’s 
epitaph on our own Goldsmith, would apply with equal force 
to Varro — “ He touched nothing that he did not adorn.” 

Little survives of Varro’s writings beyond the treatise on 
agriculture, and a part of that on the Latin language. 

Julius Caesar.— July 12th, 100 B.C., was the birthday of 
Caius Julius Caesar, by some believed to be, as Shakespeare 
styled him, “ the foremost man of all this world.” The pe- 
riod at which he lived was a critical one in history. Roman 
virtue had depreciated, justice was bought and sold, luxury 
had sapped the vigor of the nation, and vice ran riot. Only 
one-man power, and that wielded by a clear head and power- 
ful arm, could save the state. The times demanded a states- 
man who would not shrink from taking upon himself all need- 
ful responsibilities ; and in Julius Caesar that statesman was 
forthcoming. 

Caesar’s whole career evinces ambition, courage, and deter- 
mination. Sulla himself he feared not to defy, when ordered 
to divorce his wife for political reasons ; and he was adroit 
enough to escape the vengeance of the ruthless dictator who 
saw in “ the loose-girt boy ” many Mariuses. Leaving Rome 
for the East, he acquitted himself with signal ability, though 
only twenty-two, in a campaign against Mytilene ; and when 
captured by pirates on the high sefis, he paid them an ex- 
tortionate ransom, but promptly turned the tables on them by 
overhauling their vessel with a small fleet, and nailing them 
to crosses on the coast of Asia Minor. 


340 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


At Rhodes he studied oratory and rhetoric. On his return 
to Rome he gave evidence of his powers in the forum, and 
was hailed as second in eloquence to Cicero only. His readi- 
ness to protect the poor and the oppressed, together with his 
insinuating manners, made Caesar the idol of the people, who 
bestowed upon him various offices and finally raised him to 
the consulship. At the expiration of his term, he was intrust- 
ed with the government of the two Gauls ; and the military 
skill he displayed in this position, during nine years of active 
service (58-50 B.C.), proved him to be one of the world’s 
great captains. Overpowering many fierce tribes, he carried 
the terror of the Roman eagles into the forests of Germany 
and even across the Channel. A million human beings are 
computed to have been sacrificed in his Gallic campaigns. 

Jealous of these brilliant successes, and recognizing in 
Caesar a dangerous opponent of his schemes for political ag- 
grandizement, Pompey prevailed on the senate to demand the 
resignation of his victorious rival. This brought matters to a 
crisis. Caesar with his legions crossed the Rubicon, which 
separated Cisalpine Gaul from Italy (49 B.C.), and was soon 
in Rome, whence Pompey and his frieTids had fled. The bat- 
tle of Pharsalia the next year decided the question in favor of 
Caesar ; Pompey’s party was overthrown in Africa and Spain, 
and the Roman world remained the prize of the conqueror. 

Not long, however, did he enjoy it. Fearing his ambition, 
or pretending to do so, a number of “liberators” conspired 
against his life. On the 15th of March, 44 B.C., he fell pierced 
by their daggers at the foot of Pompey’s statue, as that last 
cry, wrung from his heart by the ingratitude of a trusted 
friend, resounded through the senate - house,— “ Thou, too, 
Brutus, my son !” « 

We can hardly see how, amid the excitements of such a 
career, Caesar found any time to devote to literary pursuits; 
yet his name is hardly less eminent in letters than for states- 


Cesar’s writings. 


341 


manship and military genius. He seems to have had the 
rare ability of “ employing at the same time his ears to listen, 
his eyes to read, his hand to write, and his voice to dictate.” 
While crossing the Alps, on one occasion, he wrote a gram- 
matical treatise of no little merit. 

The greatest of Ctesar’s works are his “ Commentaries ” on 
the Gallic and the Civil War — the former in seven books, 
to which an eighth was added at the author’s request by 
his fellow-soldier Hirtius. In “the Gallic War,” Caesar not 
only recounts his successes and feats of engineering skill, but 
also entertains us with pleasing descriptions of the countries 
he visited and the tribes he encountered. He always aims 
at justifying himself, and so plausibly defended his course 
in “the Civil War” as to carry conviction even to the preju- 
diced. {Seg Fronde's “ Ccesar;'* Trollopds “ CcesarP) 

In Caesar’s style, conciseness goes hand in hand with sim- 
plicity and perspicuity. Dispensing with ornament, he uses 
every word to the best advantage — and this despite the fact 
that he wrote with amazing rapidity. Though, perhaps, he 
lacks vivacity and energy, there is no purer Latin than his. 
We subjoin some interesting paragraphs from the Commen- 
taries on the Gallic War, relating to the customs of 

THE ANCIENT GAULS AND GERMANS. 

“The whole nation of Gauls is extremely addicted to supersti- 
tion ; whence, in threatening distempers and the imminent dangers 
of war, they make no scruple to sacrifice men, or engage themselves 
by vow to such sacrifices. In these they make use of the ministry of 
the Druids: for it is a prevalent opinion among them that nothing 
but the life of man can atone for the life of man, insomuch that they 
have established even public sacrifices of this kind. Some prepare 
huge colossuses of osier twigs, into which they put men alive, and 
setting fire to them, those within expire amid the flames. The}" 
prefer for victims such as have been convicted of theft, robbery, or 
other crimes, believing them the most acceptable to the gods ; but, 
when criminals are wanting, the innocent are often made to suffer. 

Mercury is the chief deity with them ; of him they have many im- 
ages, account him the inventor of all arts, their guide and conductor 


342 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


in tlieir journeys, and tlie patron of merchandise and gain. Next to 
him are Apollo and Mars, Jupiter and Minerva. Their notions in 
regard to these are pretty much the same as those of other nations. 
Apollo is their god oi physic, Minerva of works and manufactures ; 
Jove holds the empire of heaven, and Mars presides in war. To this 
last, when they resolve on a battle, they commonly devote the spoil. 
If they prove victorious, they offer up all the cattle taken, and set 
apart the rest of the plunder in a place appointed for that purpose ; 
it is common in many provinces to see these monuments of offerings 
]>iled up in consecrated places. Nay, it rarely happens that any one 
shows so great a disregard of religion as either to conceal the plunder 
or pillage the public oblations ; and the severest punishments are 
inflicted on such offenders. 

The Gauls fancy themselves to be descended from the god Pluto ; 
which, it seems, is an established tradition among the Druids. For 
this reason they compute the time by nights, not by days ; and, in 
the observance of birthdays, new moons, and the beginning of the 
year, always commence the celebration from the preceding night. 
In one custom they differ from almost all other nations, that they 
never suffer their children to come openly into their presence until 
they are old enough to bear arms ; for the appearance of a son in 
public with his fatlier before he has reached the age of manhood is 
accounted dishonorable. 

Whatever fortune the woman brings, the husband is obliged to 
equal it out of his own estate. This whole sum, with its annual 
product, is left untouched, aud falls always to the share of the sur- 
vivor. The men have power of life and death over their wives aud 
children ; and, when any father of a family of illustrious rank dies, 
his relations assemble, and, on the least ground of suspicion, put even 
his wives to the torture like slaves. If they are found guilty, iron 
and fire are employed to torment and destroy them. Their funerals 
are magnificent and sumptuous, according to their quality. Every- 
thing that was dear to the deceased, even animals, are thrown into 
the pile ; aud, formerly, such of their slaves and clients as they 
loved most sacrificed themselves at the funeral of their lord. 

The Germans differ widely in their manners from the Gauls; for 
neither have they Druids to preside in religious affairs, nor do they 
trouble .themselves about sacrifices. They acknowledge no gods but 
those that they can see, and by whose power they are apparently 
benefited : the sun, the moon, fire. Of others they know nothing, 
not even by report. Their wliole life is addict(;d to hunting and 
war; and from their infancy they are inured to fatigue and hard- 
ships. Agriculture is little regarded among them, as they live most- 
ly on milk, cheese, and the flesh of animals. Nor has any man lands 
of his own, or distinguished by fixed boundaries. The magistrates 
and those in authority portion out yearly to every canton and family 
such a quantity of land, and in what part of the country they think 
proper; aud the year following remove them to some other spot. 


f 


SALLUST, THE HISTOEIAN. 


343 


Many reasons are assigned for this practice ; lest, seduced by habit 
and continuance, tlMjy should learn to prefer pillage to war ; lest a 
desire of enlarging their possessions should gain ground, and prompt 
the stronger to expel the weaker; lest they should become curious 
in their buildings, in order to guard against the extremes of heat 
and cold ; lest avarice should get footing among them, wdience 
spring factious and discords ; in tine, to preserve contentment and 
equanimity among the people, when they tiud their possessions noth- 
ing inferior to those of the most powerful. 

It is accounted honorable for states to have the country all around 
them lie waste and depopulated; for they think it an argument of 
valor to expel their neighbors, and sutler none to settle near them ; 
at the same time that they are themselves also the safer, as having 
nothing to apprehend from sudden incursions. When a state is en- 
gaged in war, either otfensive or defensive, they make choice of mag- 
istrates to preside in it, whom they arm with the power of life and 
death. In time of peace there are no public magistrates; but the 
chiefs of the several provinces and clans administer justice, and de- 
cide ditferences within their respective limits. Robbery has nothing 
infamous in it when committed without the territories of the state 
to which they belong ; they even pretend that it serves to exercise 
their youth, and prevent the growth of sloth. The laws of hospital- 
ity are held inviolable among them. All that fly to them for refuge, 
on whatever account, are sure of protection and defence.” — Duncan. 

Sallust (86-34 B.C.). — Another historian, whose name is 
as familiar as Caesar’s to classical students, is Caius Sallustius 
Crispus, popularly known as Sallust. From his native town 
Amiternum, in the country of the Sabines, he came to Rome, 
ambitious of public honors, and gradually worked his way up 
to a seat in the senate. Alleged immorality, however, caused 
his expulsion from that body, and not until he had rendered 
important service to Caesar in the civil war did he recover his 
good standing. Caesar made him governor of the rich prov- 
ince of Numidia (46 B.C.), which Sallust pretty thoroughly 
plundered during his one year of office, returning to Rome 
with fabulous riches. It was fortunate for him that, when a 
Numidian commission arrived to prosecute him for extortion, 
his powerful patron interposed to save him from punishment. 

On the assassination of Caesar, Sallust retired from public 
life and devoted part of his ill-gotten gains to the erection of 


344 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


a splendid mansion on one of the seven hills. It was sur- 
rounded by lovely pleasure-grounds, adornSd with baths, stat- 
ues, and other magnificent works of art, prominent among 
which, on exquisitely chiselled columns, rose a temple, paved 
in mosaic, and set off with Grecian marbles. “ The Gardens 
of Sallust ” were preferred by many of the Roman emperors 
to the imperial palace itself. 

Here or at his Tiburtine villa, our author, thoroughly con- 
vinced of the vanity of political honors, and filled with re- 
morse for his youthful indiscretions, spent the last nine years 
of his life in the compilation of historical works which give us 
a high opinion of his abilities. His first effort was “ the Con- 
spiracy of Catiline,” the facts of which were vividly impressed 
upon his memory, since, when a student at Rome, he was a 
witness of its thrilling scenes. “The Jugurthine War,” which 
followed, treats of the struggle which the Roman people car- 
ried on with Jugurtha, king of Numidia. This unscrupulous 
prince had made his way to an undivided throne over the 
murdered bodies of his two cousins, allies of the Romans, se- 
curing impunity for a time by buying up the senate. Having, 
however, caused the assassination of another kinsman in the 
very streets of Rome, whither he had been summoned, on the ■ 
pledge of the public faith, to expose those who had taken his 
bribes, he was ordered to quit Italy. It was on leaving the 
capital that Jugurtha, looking back, uttered those words so 
significant of the prevalent corruption: “O venal city and 
destined soon to perish, if you can but find a purchaser !” 

A Roman army followed him into Africa; but little was 
effected until the consul Metellus assumed the command, and,- 
proof against Numidian gold, prosecuted the war in earnest. 
After five years’ continuance, it was successfully terminated 
by Marius. Sallust’s history ends with the betrayal of Jugur- 
tha to the Romans, and the triumph of the consul Marius, 
“on whom the hopes of the state were then placed.” Plutarch 


SALLUST S STYLE. 


345 


adds that, after figuring in the procession, Jugurtha was set 
upon by the people, who tore the rings from his ears and even 
stripped him of his clothes ; then he was pushed into a damp 
dungeon to starve, shuddering as he cried to the bystanders 
with a maniacal laugh, “ How cold is this bath of yours !” 

Another work of Sallust was a History of Rome from 78 to 
66 B.C., fragments of which remain. 

Sallust’s Style, modelled after that of Thucydides, is sen- 
tentious, energetic, and an improvement on the original in 
clearness. Condensation without obscurity is its crowning 
excellence ; and its finish, though too plainly showing marks 
of labor, is always attractive. 

The forte of Sallust lay in delineating character ; his por- 
traits of Catiline and Jugurtha are as vivid as if the men 
themselves stood before us. Especially striking are his pict- 
ures of remorse. Catiline, who murdered his own son to in- 
duce an infamous beauty to become his wife, “ at peace with 
neither gods nor men, finds no comfort either waking or sleep- 
ing ; his complexion is pale, his eyes haggard, his walk some- 
times quick and sometimes slow, and distraction is apparent 
in every look.” Jugurtha, red with the blood of many vic- 
tims, “fears his subjects and his enemies alike, is ever on the 
watch, starts from his sleep to seize his arms, and is so agi- 
tated by terror as to appear under the influence of madness.” 

Sallust also affects the moralist, and throughout his works 
is as loud in the praises of virtue as in his life he was care- 
less of her interests. From “the Jugurthine War” we take 
an interesting account of the 

CAPTURE OF A NUMIDIAN FORT. 

Not far from the river Mulucha, whieli separated the kingdoms 
of Jugurtha and Bocchus, there stood, in the midst of a plain, a 
small fort, on a rock of considerable breadth, and of prodigious 
height, naturally as steep on every side as art or labor could render 
it ; it had no access, except at one place, and that whs by means of 
a narrow path. As the king’s treasure was deposited in this place, 


346 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Marius exerted his utmost efforts to reduce it; and succeeded, more 
by accident than by prudent management. 

The castle was abundantly provided with men, arms, provisions, 
and a spring of water; its situation rendered it impossible to make 
use of mounds and turrets, and the machinery usually employed in 
'a siege ; the path to it was very narrow, with a precipice on each 
side. The moving galleries were pushed forward with infinite haz- 
ard, and to no purpose ; for, when they advanced toward the gar- 
rison, they were either destroyed by fire or crushed by prodigious 
stones. The soldiers could neither maintain their footing nor make 
use of their batteries without exposing themselves to continual dan- 
ger. The most adventurous were either slain or wounded, and the 
rest were greatly discouraged. 

Marius, having thus spent many toilsome days, now hesitated 
whether he should abandon his enterprise, which had proved unsuc- 
cessful, or wait the interposition of fortune, which had so frequently 
befriended him. While these reflections day and night occupied his 
mind, a Ligurian, a common soldier of the auxiliary cohorts, who 
had gone out of the camp in search of water, happened to observe, 
not far from the opposite side of the castle, some periwinkles creep- 
ing among the rocks ; gathering one, then another, and still climb- 
ing to procure more, he was led insensibly almost to the top of 
the mountain, where, perceiving all was quiet in that quarter, the 
natural desire of viewing unknown objects prompted him to pro- 
ceed. 

It chanced that an oak-tree, of considerable magnitude, here grew 
out of the side of the rock, and, bending its trunk downward near 
the root, then taking a turn, mounted upward, as is natural to trees 
in such situations. 

By the help of this, the Ligurian, laying hold of the branches of 
the tree or of the prominences of the rock, was at length enabled to 
survey the whole plan of the castle, without being disturbed by the 
Numidians, who were all engaged on that side on which the attack 
had been made. Having carefully examined whatever he thought 
would be useful to him in the execution of his design, he returned 
the same way; not hastily, as he went up, but pausing at every 
step, and observing everything with the utmost care. 

On his return to the camp, he hastened to Marins, informed him 
of what he had done, pressed him to make an attempt on the castle 
on that side where he himself had mounted, and promised that he 
would lead the way, and be the first to face the danger. Marius de- 
spatched some of those who attended him, accompanied by the Li- 
gurian, to examine the spot ; and, although their reports varied as 
to the facility or the difficulty of the undertaking, the consul, en- 
couraged by the hope of success, determined to make the attempt. 
He accordingly selected, from among the trumpeters and cornet- 
blowers of the line, five of the most active and enterprising men, to- 
gether with four centurions to support them, and, putting the whole 


EXTRACT FROM SALLUST. 


347 


under the command of the Ligurian, he ordered them to he in readi- 
ness to set out on the following day. 

At the time appointed the party left the camp, having previously 
taken snch measures as were necessary for the expedition. The cen- 
turions, according to the instructions which they had received from 
their guide, had changed their arms and dress, and marched with 
their heads and feet bare, that they might have the freer prospect, 
and climb with more facility. Their swords and bucklers were slung 
across their shoulders; the latter, of the Numidian kind, and covered 
with hides, as well for the sake of lightness, as that all noise might 
be avoided if they struck against the rock. 

The Ligurian, leadiug the way, fixed cords about the stones, and 
such roots of trees as appeared proper for the purpose, to assist the 
soldiers in climbing ; stretching his hand, from time to time, to such 
as were discouraged at so rugged a march. When the ascent was 
more steep than ordinary, he would send them up before him un- 
armed, and then follow himself with their arms. Wherever it ap- 
peared more dangerous to climb, he went foremost ; and, by ascend- 
ing and descending several times, encouraged the rest to follow him, 
and retired to make way for them. At length, after much tedious 
labor, they gained the castle, which was quite deserted on that side, 
the Numidians being all employed in the opposite quarter. 

When Marius was informed of the success of the Ligurian, al- 
though he had kept the garrison employed the whole day by a con- 
tinued attack, he now, encouraging the soldiers, sallied from under 
the moving galleries, and, drawing up his men in the form of a 
shell, rushed forward to the castle; while the sliugers and archers 
poured their volleys from a distance, and the engines incessantly 
played on the besieged. The Numidians, who had often before 
broken to pieces and even burned the Roman galleries, did not now 
defend themselves within their battlements, but passed whole days 
and nights without their w'alls ; they railed at the efforts of the Ro- 
mans, upbraided Marius with madness, and in the height of their ex- 
ultation threatened to make our men slaves of Jugurtha. 

’while both sides were warmly engaged in this vigorous struggle 
for glory and empire on the one hand, and life and liberty on the 
other, the trumpets on a sudden sounded in the enemy’s rear. The 
women and children, who had come out to see the engagement, first 
fled in dismay ; after them, such as were nearest the walls ; and at 
last the whole, armed and unarmed, fairly gave way. The Romans 
now pressed onward with greater vigor, overthrowing the enemy, and 
wounding most of them; then, advancing over the heaps of slain, 
they flew to the walls, all thirsting for glory, and each striving to be 
foremost, without regard to plunder. Thus did accidental success 
justify the rashness of Marius, while his imprudence contributed to 
heighten his glory.” 

Cornelius Nepos (74-24 B.C.), though inferior to the writers 

P 


348 


KOMAN LITEKATUKE. 


just treated, deserves mention for his “ Lives of Eminent 
Commanders,” his only extant work. These sketches, espe- 
cially the biography of Pomponius Atticus, are clearly writ- 
ten and furnish valuable information respecting the times to 
which they relate ; but Nepos was not an accurate compiler, 
and dependence cannot always be placed on his statements. 
As a specimen of his style, we quote from his “ Lives ” 

THE CHARACTER OF ALCIBIADES. 

“ Nature seems to have tried in him what she could do. For it is 
agreed upon among all who have written about him, that nobody 
was more extraordinary than he, either in vices or in virtues ; being 
horn in a very great city, of a great family, much the handsomest 
man of his time, fit for all things, and abounding in judgment for 
the management of affairs. For he was a very great commander, 
both by sea and laud ; so eloquent that he mightily prevailed in 
speaking; and such was the plausibility of his elocution and lan- 
guage that in haranguing nobody was able to stand before him. 

The same man, when occasion required, was laborious, hardy, gen- 
erous, splendid no less in his equipage than his diet, affable, fawn- 
ing, very cunningly serving the times. The same, when he had un- 
bent himself, and there was no reason why he should take upon him 
any labor of thought, was found to be luxurious, dissolute, and in- 
temperate, in so much that all wondered that in the same man there 
should be so much unlikeuess to himself, and natures so different.’^ 
— John Clarke. 

POETS OF THE CICERONIAN PERIOD, 

Lucretius (95-55 B.C.). — Meanwhile Italy produced two 
poets of high rank, Lucretius and Catullus. Of Lucretius we 
have little trustworthy information. A native of Italy, he ap- 
pears, in accordance with the common practice, to have stud- 
ied philosophy at Athens, where he became the classmate of 
Memmius. From his poetry, we may infer his indifference to 
all things transient, alike to social pleasures and the stormy 
sea of politics that surged around him ; his life was probably 
one of deep thought, tinged with sadness. In dignity he was 
a true Roman ; in sympathy for his kind, a true man. With 
nature he must have held frequent converse, for Homer alone 


LUCRETIUS. 


349 


of ancient writers excels him in description. His life ended 
with suicide. 

The only work of Lucretius was what Macaulay styles “ the 
finest didactic poem in any language,” “On the Nature of 
Things.” It was dedicated to his school-friend Memmius, at 
whose suggestion it is said to have been written. The old 
story that, having been crazed by a love-philter administered 
through the jealousy of his wife, the poet composed this work 
during the temporary returns of reason, is now discredited as 
a fabrication of later times. 

The poem is divided into six books, and embodies the dog- 
mas of Epicurus, which Lucretius vivified with the spirit of 
poetry and beautified with its most attractive drapery. Pleas- 
ure, the chief end of existence, is to be sought by banishing 
care and distressing thoughts. God created not ; but eternal 
atoms, variously and ceaselessly active, constitute all existing 
things. The soul dies with the body; it behooves us, there- 
fore, to make the most of the little time allotted us, by dividing 
it between moderate enjoyment and philosophical contempla- 
tion. (See Masson's “ The Atomic Theory of Lucretius."') 

Lucretius also accounted for the origin of the universe, 
whose government by a Divine Being he scouted ; for that of 
plants, men, and animals, teaching the survival of the fittest ; 
for that of language and the arts. To elevate his readers 
above degrading superstitions and the cowardly fear of death 
is his primary aim ; and “the constant presence of this prac- 
tical purpose imparts to his words that peculiar tone of im- 
passioned earnestness to which there is no parallel in ancient 
literature.” In one of many passages on the subject, he thus 
speaks of 

THE DREAD OF DEATH. 

Were then the Nature of Created Things 
To rise abrupt, and thus repining man 
Address : — ‘ O mortal ! whence these useless fears ? 

This weak, superfluous sorrow ? why the approach 


350 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Dread’st thou of death ? For if the time elapsed 
• Have smiled propitious, and not all its gifts, 

As if adventured in a leaky vase. 

Been idly wasted, profitless, and vain — 

Why quitt’st thou not, thou fool! the feast of life 
Filled, anil with miud all panting for repose ? 

But if tliyself have squandered every boon. 

And of the past grown weary — why demand 
More days to kill, more blessings to pervert, 

Nor rather headlong hasten to thine end V 
Were Nature thus to address us, could we fail 
To feel the justice of her keen rebuke ? 

So true the picture, the advice so sage! 

But to the wretch who moans the approach of death 
With grief unmeasured, louder might she raise 
Her voice severe : — ‘ Vile coward ! dr^’^ thine eyes — 

Hence with thy snivelling sorrows, and depart!’ 

Should he, moreo’er, have passed man’s mid-day hour — 

‘ What ! thou lament, already who hast reaped 

An ample harvest? By desiring thus 

The past once more, the present thou abhorr’st, 

And life flies on imperfect, unenjoyed. 

And death untimely meets thee, ere thy soul. 

Cloyed with the banquet, is prepared to rise. 

Leave, then, to others bliss thy years should shun ; 

Come, cheerful leave it, since still leave thou must.’ 

Justly, I deem, might Nature thus reprove : 

For, through creation, old to young resigns. 

And this from that matures ; nor aught descends 
To the dread gulfs, the fancied shades of hell. 

The mass material must survive entire 
To feed succeeding ages, which, in turn, 

Like thee shall flourish, and like thee shall die ; 

Nor more the present ruins than the past. 

Thus things from things ascend; and life exists 
To none a freehold, but a use to all. 

Reflect, moreo’er, how less than naught to us 
Weighs the long portion of eternal time 
Fled ere our birth : so, too, the future weighs 
When death dissolves us. What of horror, then. 

Dwells there in death ? what gloomy, what austere ? 

Can there be elsewhere slumber half so sound ?” 

John Mason Good. 

Lucretius reasons plausibly, but on some points, it is too 
evident, unsatisfactorily even to himself. His work contains 
much that is worthy of praise, but this only makes its atheis- 


EXTRACT FROM LUCRETIUS. 


351 


tical tendencies more dangerous. It was left unfinished at 
the poet’s death, to be revised and edited by other hands. 

The style of Lucretius is not uniformly harmonious ; some 
of his verses lack polish, and he inclines to antique forms. 
Yet it is dignified, luminous, and animated; glows with all the 
poet’s enthusiasm, and is marked by tenderness and pathos. 
The pictures drawn are so real as to awaken the emotions 
that would be experienced on beholding the originals. Schle- 
gel gives Lucretius high praise : “ As a painter and worship- 
per of nature, he is the first of all the poets of antiquity.” 

In the extract given below, the touching description of the 
cow searching for her calf that has been^offered in sacrifice, 
will show how he dignifies commonplace subjects : — 

VAKIETY IN NATURE. 

“ Thus Nature varies ; man, and brutal beast. 

And herbage gay, and silver fishes mute. 

And all the tribes of heaven, o’er many a sea. 

Through many a grove that wing, or urge their song 
Near many a bank of fountain, lake, or rill, 

Search where thou wilt, each differs in his kind. 

In form, in figure dilfers. Hence alone 
Knows the fond mother her appropriate young. 

The appropriate young their mother, ’mid the brutes. 

As clear discerned as man’s sublimer race. 

Thus oft before the sacred shrine, perfumed 
With breathing frankincense, the affrighted calf 
Pours o’er the altar, from his breast profound. 

The purple flood of life. But wandering wild 
O’er the green sward, the dam, bereft of hope. 

Beats with her cloven hoof the indented dale. 

Each spot exploring, if, perchance, she still 

May trace her idol ; through the umbrageous grove, 

With well-known voice, she moans ; and oft reseeks, 

Urged by a mother’s love, the accustomed stall. 

Nor shade for her, nor dew-distended glebe. 

Nor stream soft gliding down its banks abrupt. 

Yields aught of solace ; nor the carking care 
Averts, that preys within ; nor the gay young 
Of others soothe her o’er the joyous green : 

So deep she longs, so lingers for her own. 

Thus equal known, thus longed for, seek, in turn. 


352 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


The tender heifer, tremulous of voice, 

Aud the gay bleating lamb, their horned dams, 

Lured by the milky fount that nurtures life.” 

Catullus (87-54 B.C.). — Verona in Cisalpine Gaul gave 
birth to Catullus, the first great Roman lyrist. It was no 
doubt to avail himself of the superior advantages Rome offer- 
ed, that while still in the greenness of his youth he exchanged 
his provincial quarters for the capital. Here we catch occa- 
sional glimpses of him — moving among the Hite as the equal 
•of men like Nepos, Hortensius, and Cicero ; or as the reckless 
sensualist throwing himself at the feet of some dissolute siren. 

Upon the notorious “ Lesbia,” who stole, our poet sung, 

“ The charms most rare of every fair 
To frame a perfect whole,” 

Catullus wasted alike his love and the finest lyrics of which 
the Latin boasts. The coquettish beauty at first gloried in her 
conquest of Rome’s most popular poet, and appears for a time 
to have been true. Then she grew cold, and cast him off for 
new admirers. But Catullus, though outraged by her fickle- 
ness, could not overcome his unworthy passion : — 

“ I curse her every hour sincerely. 

Yet hang me — but I love her dearly.” 

At last, however, he renounced his faithless mistress, bidding 
her adieu in an ode which closes with one of his most beau- 
tiful similes : — 

Nor give that love a thought which I 
So nursed for thee in days gone by. 

Now by thy guile slain in an hour, 

E’en as some little wilding flower. 

That on the meadow’s border blushed. 

Is by the passing ploughshare crushed.” 

Catullus spent his hours of relaxation at his villa in the 
suburbs of the Latian town of Ti'bur, or at his favorite Sirmio 
on a lovely lake in northern Italy, the subject of one of his 
most graceful odes. Toward the close of his life, in the hope 


CATULLUS. 


353 


of refilling a purse which his extravagance had depleted, he 
went to Bithynia in Asia Minor as a staff-officer of the praetor 
Memmius, to whom Lucretius inscribed his poem. But in 
consequence of the selfishness of his superior, Catullus came 
back with wallet still lighter. Of two friends who went to 
Spain on a similar errand, he archly inquired : — 

And have you netted — worse than worst — 

A good deal less than you disbursed ; 

Like me, who following about 
My praetor, was — in fact — cleaned out 

The death of a brother to whom he was devotedly attached 
plunged Catullus in grief ; and now with nothing to live for, 
sated with worldly pleasure, in which he found the vanity of 
vanities, he longed for the fate that soon overtook him. 

The Style of Catullus, called by the ancients the Ac- 
complished,” is lively, graceful, and vigorous ; he writes in the 
language of nature, and excels in suiting his words to the sen- 
timents expressed. The musical measures of the Greeks, 
adapted by him to his native tongue, lent intensity to his 
words, and there were “lutes in his very lines.” From the 
Greek writers, particularly Sappho and Callimachus of Alex- 
andria, he borrowed largely. One of his odes to Lesbia is ev- 
idently an imitation of Sappho’s celebrated love-song quoted 
on p. 169 : — 

TO LESBIA. 

The equal of a God he seems to me. 

Surpassing wealth doth his blessed lot appear, 

Who, sitting often opposite to thee, 

May gaze and hear. 

The radiance of thy smile from me hath reft, 

From miserable me, all sense away. 

For when I look on Lesbia naught is left 
That Love can say. 

My tongue is dumb, while through each trembling limb 
The thin flame mounts, till self-wrought murmurs rise 
To fill mine ears, and night grown doubly dim 

Veils o’er mine eyes.” — C. N. Gregory. 


354 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


His book of poems, ii6 in number, was dedicated to Cor- 
nelius Nepos. Their subjects are as various as the metres in 
which they are written, for they reflect the passing emotions 
of the poet, now lighted with gayety, now clouded with sorrow, 
anon ablaze with love. 

Among the other pieces of Catullus must be mentioned his 
cutting satires, in which even Caesar was not spared ; his ex- 
quisite epithalamia, or marriage-hymns; and the “Atys,” a 
weird poem remarkable for its metrical effects. Our poet’s 
lyric powers may be further judged of by the following 

ELEGY ON LESBIA’S SPARROW. 

“ Loves and Graces, mourn with me, 

Mourn, fair youths, where’er ye be ! 

Dead my Lesbia’s sparrow is, 

Sparrow, that was all her bliss. 

Than her very eyes more dear ; 

For he made her dainty cheer. 

Knew her well, as any maid 
Knows her mother, never strayed 
From her lap, but still would go 
Hopping round her to and fro. 

And to her, and her alone, 

Chirrup’d with such pretty tone. 

Now he treads that gloomy track, 

Whence none ever may come back. 

Out upon you, and your power. 

Which all fairest things devour, 

Orcus’ gloomy shades, that e’er 
Ye should take my bird so fair! 

Oh ! poor bird ! Oh ! dismal shades ! 

Yours the blame is, that my maid’s 
Eyes, dear eyes ! are swoll’n and red. 

Weeping for her darling dead.” 

Theodore Martin. 

POETRY OF THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 

As prose reached its highest development in the last years 
of the Republic, so many causes contributed to perfect Latin 
verse in the reign of the first Roman emperor, Augustus. 
Secured upon the throne by his triumph at Actium (31 B.C.), 


POETS OF THE AUGUSTAN AGE. 


355 


Augustus pursued a conciliatory course, with a view to win- 
ning the love of his subjects, and he was eminently success- 
ful. All classes, tired of civil war and its attendant proscrip- 
tions and massacres, hailed with delight the return of peace ; 
and under the patronage of the emperor, seconded by his 
minister Maecenas, poetry revived. 

Augustus was as fortunate in finding at Rome a number of 
youthful poets, many of them in humble circumstances and of 
provincial origin, as in the possession of a minister who could 
appreciate and foster their talents. Maecenas knew the value 
of genius too well to let it die of neglect ; and his name, as 
the patron of art and letters, has passed into a proverb. His 
luxurious gardens were the haunt of poets and savants, and 
round his sumptuous table sat an inspired circle who poured 
their grateful tributes into the ears of their master and his. 

Thus the munificence of Augustus and Maecenas, them- 
selves both critics and writers, combined with the political 
quiet that gave leisure for literary pursuits, to make their 
period the golden age of poetry. Prose, on the other hand, 
declined. Political eloquence was powerless in the face of 
despotism ; while the veracious historian must needs tread a 
dangerous path, or seal his lips. 

The poets of the Augustan era w^ere deficient, as a rule, in 
that creative genius which characterized the age of Pericles 
in Greece, their works being rather the fruits of art and in- 
dustry. A long and careful training, in which Greek studies 
played a prominent part, prepared them for their high pro- 
fession ; Horace tells us that at the age of twenty-three he 
was still “ seeking the truth among the groves of Academus.” 
Works on various subjects could now be consulted in the 
public libraries of Rome ; and Alexandrian models helped to 
mould the literary taste of the day. {Compare Sellar's Ro- 
man P^oets of the Augustan AgeP) 

Virgil.— In the little village of Andes near Mantua, on the 


356 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 



15th of October, B.C. 70, Rome’s greatest poet, Virgil (Pub- 
lius Virgilius Maro), first saw the light. His boyhood was 
spent on the banks of the winding Mincio in a quiet round 
of rural pursuits ; his father, as owner of a small farm, being 
among those whom the poet subsequently pictured as the 
happiest of men. 

Alive to the importance of education, Virgil’s parents set 
aside a portion of their slender means to provide for his in- 
struction ; and when he reached the age of twelve, his father 
entered him in a school at Cremona. In his seventeenth 
year he went to Rome, and there prosecuted the higher stud- 
ies, familiarizing himself with the Greek poets, and spending 
his leisure in the composition of lyric pieces. Having com- 


R0MA.NS OF THB Augustan Agf. (Becker’s “Gallus.”) 


VIRGIL. 


357 


pleted his education, Virgil returned to his native place, 
where, amid the natural attractions that surrounded him, he 
conceived the idea of rivalling Theocritus in bucolic poetry, 
and in 42 B.C. began his Eclogues. 

After the victory of the Triumvirs in the civil war, the 
lands about Cremona and Mantua were divided among the 
soldiers who had served against Brutus, and the estate of 
Virgil, neutral though he had been, was taken from him. On 
the poet’s application to Octavius, however, it was restored, 
and in one of his Eclogues he gave utterance to his sincere 
gratitude. Shortly after, Virgil was ejected again, and this 
time narrowly escaped with his life by swimming the Mincio. 
Nor does he appear to have ever been reinstated. Octavius, 
however, loaded him with favors j and a house in Rome near 
the palace of his friend Maecenas, with a lovely villa in the 
suburbs of Naples, where the climate agreed better with his 
delicate constitution than the damp air of the north, recon- 
ciled him to the loss of his boyhood’s home. 

The Eclogues, published about 37 B.C., established Virgil’s 
reputation as a pastoral poet, and gained him no mean place 
among the literary and political celebrities that crowded 
the house of Maecenas. It was by the advice of this states- 
man that the poet undertook the most finished and original 
of all his productions, — the Georgies, — a work which, though 
only about 2200 lines in length, occupied him for seven years.. 

Having declared in this poem that “ he would wed Caesar’s 
glories to an epic strain,” Virgil was held to his promise by 
the emperor, at whose solicitation he gave the rest of his life 
(eleven years) to the composition of the ^neid. In this 
great epic, like the Odyssey a sequel to the Iliad, the origin 
of Rome is traced back to ancient Troy, and the genealogy of 
Augustus to her greatest surviving hero, “ the pious .^Eneas.” 
Death stopped the poet’s pen when three years’ labor was 
yet necessary, in his estimation, to perfect his work. 


358 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


It appears that in the year 19 B.C. Virgil undertook a tour 
through Greece and Asia Minor, to acquaint himself with the 
geography of the countries described in the ^neid ; but 
meeting Augustus at Athens, he changed his plans and start- 
ed with the emperor for Rome. On the way he was seized 
with a mortal illness, and only lived to reach the harbor of 
Brundisium in ^uthern Italy. On his death-bed, Virgil be- 
sought his friends to bring him the manuscript of his epic, 
that he might consign it to the flames ; but they wisely saved 
a masterpiece which the modesty of its author would have 
condemned to oblivion. 

Virgil was interred at Naples. A simple vault, overgrown 
with ivy and wild myrtle, still marks his grave. On a marble 
slab set in the rock opposite is the inscription which Dryden 
has thus rendered : — 

“ I suug flocks, tillage, heroes : Mantua gave 
Me life ; Brundisium, death ; Naples, a grave.” 

Virgil has been described as a tall, dark-complexioned man, 
careless of his dress, and with awkward country airs. His life 
was that of a student ; and despite the fact that he was a mar- 
tyr to dyspepsia and pulmonary disease, he did not allow his 
delicate health to interfere with his literary labors. Of gen- 
tle, unassuming manners, he would fly from the admiring 
crowds that followed him in the streets ; and none would 
have inferred from his appearance or conversation that he 
was a great poet. He was more than a great poet — he was 
a pure, unselfish, honest man, uncontaminated by the prevail- 
ing vices. Not the least among his virtues was filial piety. 
His countrymen felt how great and noble he was, when they 
rose in the theatre and paid him equal honor with the em- 
peror himself. 

Had he lived, it was Virgil’s purpose, after completing the 
^neid, to study philosophy, the love of which he had imbibed 
in early life from the verses of Lucretius. The investigation 


Virgil’s eclogues. 


359 


of truth was his highest aim ; and there are reasons for be- 
lieving that he had in mind the preparation of a grand phil- 
osophical poem that might have cast into the shade the 
stately treatise “On the Nature of Things.” 

Such liberality had Virgil experienced from his friends that 
he left a fortune of $400,000, to be divided, as he never mar- 
ried, among his brother, Augustus, Maecenas, and others of 
his associates. 

The Eclogues. — Virgil was the first Roman writer to cul- 
tivate pastoral poetry, and his Eclogues {selections), or more 
properly Bucolics {shepherd poems), are mostly dialogues, in 
imitation of the idyls of Theocritus. Various subjects are 
charmingly discussed by imaginary shepherds, in whom one 
sometimes recognizes the poet and his friends. 

The least understood of Virgil’s Eclogues is the one enti- 
tled “ Pollio,” from the name of the consul to whom it is ad- 
dressed. It was written B.C. 40, and predicts the coming of 
a wondrous Child, whose birth would usher in a golden age 
of peace and happiness. Some have seen in this child an un- 
conscious allusion to the Babe of Bethlehem, whose advent 
the Sibylline oracles are believed to have foretold. Perhaps 
Virgil had heard of the Hebrew prophecies indirectly through 
the Alexandrian Greeks, and recast them in Latin verse ; 
perhaps it was but a Roman infant — Pollio’s child — whose 
birth he sung in an exaggerated strain. However this may 
be, we may remember that the heathen as well as the Jewish 
world at this time expected a great reformer, who should re- 
store the innocence and bliss of by-gone ages. 

EXTRACT. FROM THE POLLIO. 

“ Comes the Last Age, of which the Sibyl sung — 

A new-born cycle of the rolling years ; 

Justice returns to earth, the rule returns 
Of good King Saturn ; lo ! from the high heavens 
Comes a new seed of men. Lucina chaste, 

Speed the fair infant’s birth, with whom shall end 


360 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


Our age of iron, and tlie golden prime 
Of earth return ; thine own Apollo’s reign 
In him begins anew. This glorious age 
Inaugurates, O Pollio, with thee; 

Thy consulship shall date the happy months ; 

Under thine auspices the Child shall purge 
Our guilt-stains out, and free the land from dread. 

He with the gods and heroes like the gods 
Shall hold familiar converse, and shall rule 
With his great father’s spirit the peaceful world. 

For thee, O Child ! the earth untilled shall pour 
Her early gifts, the winding ivy’s wreath. 

Smiling acanthus, and all flowers that blow. 

The ground beneath shall cradle thee in blooms, 

The venomed snake shall die, the poisonous herb 
Perish from out thy j)ath. 

So, when the years shall seal tby manhood’s strength, 

The busy merchant shall forsake the seas — 

Barter there shall not need ; the soil shall bear 
For all men’s use all products of all climes. 

The glebe shall need no harrow, nor the vine 
The searching knife, the oxen bear no yoke ; 

The wool no longer shall be schooled to lie, 

Dyed in false hues ; but, coloring as he feeds, 

The ram himself in the rich pasture-lands 
Shall wear a fleece now purple and now gold. 

And the lambs grow in scarlet. So the Fates, 

Who know not change, have bid their spindles run, 

And weave for this blest age the web of doom.” 

W. L. Collins. 

The Georgics. — Having shown his powers in the Ec- 
logues, Virgil was not unwilling to put them to a further 
proof, when Msecenas suggested a work on husbandry, which 
should dignify that ancient art and revive a love for the sim- 
ple pursuits of the fathers of the Republic. 

Taking Hesiod’s “Works and Days” as his model, he add- 
ed the artistic Georgics {agricultural poem) to the works of 
Cato and Varro on rural life. No less elevated in tone than 
theirs, it possesses an additional attraction in its dress of 
verse, glows with the author’s love of nature, and displays his 
ardent zeal to check the national decay. Virgil labored upon 
the Georgics for seven years, it being his habit to rise betimes 


VIRGIL S GEORGICS. 


361 


and dictate in the early morning verses which he spent the 
rest of the day in polishing and condensing. 

The Georgies is a didactic poem, and as such, with the 
work of Lucretius, represents the only department in which 
the Romans excelled both the Greeks and all modern na- 
tions. The first of its four books is devoted to tillage ; it 
gives directions for ploughing (early and often, was Virgil’s 
motto), sowing, and fertilizing, and explains the signs of the 
weather. We learn from it that the pests of the modern 
farmer were not unknown to the old Roman husbandman : — 

“ With ponderous roller smooth the level floor, 

And bind with chalky cement o’er and o’er ; 

Lest springing weeds expose thy want of art. 

And worn in many a chink the surface part : 

There builds the field-mouse underneath the ground, 

And loads her little barn with plunder crowned ; 

There works the mole along her dark abode. 

There in its hollow lurks the lonely toad, 

There wastes the weevil with insatiate rage, 

There the wise ant that dreads the wants of age.” 

Arboriculture is. treated minutely in the second book, the 
vine receiving the principal share of attention. Here we 
have the most beautiful of those digressions which lend an 
enchanting variety to the style of the Georgies — the poet’s 
glowing eulogy of his native land. 

PRAISES OF ITALY. 

“Yet nor the Median groves, nor rivers, rolled, 

Ganges, and Hermus, o’er their beds of gold. 

Nor Ind, nor Bactra, nor the blissful land 
Where incense spreads o’er rich Panchaia’s sand. 

Nor all that fancy paints in fabled lays, 

O native Italy ! transcend thy praise. 

Though here no bulls beneath the enchanted yoke 
With fiery nostril o’er the furrow smoke. 

No hydra teeth embattled harvest yield, 

Spear and bright helmet bristling o’er the field ; 

Yet golden corn each laughing valley fills. 

The vintage reddens on a thousand hills. 


362 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Luxuriant olives spread from shore to shore, 

And flocks uunumbered range the pastures o’er. 

Hence the proud war-horse rushes on the foe, 

Clitumuus! hence thy herds, more white than snow, 

And stately bull, that, of gigautic size. 

Supreme of victims, on the altar lies, 

Batlied in thy sacred stream oft led the train 
When Rome in pomp of triumph deck’d the fane. 

Here Spring perpetual leads the laughing Hours, 

And Winter wears a wreath of summer flow'ers : 

The o’erloaded branch twice fills Avith fruits the year, 

And twice the teeming flocks their oflspriug rear. 

Yet here no lion breeds, no tiger strays. 

No tempting aconite the touch betrays. 

No monstrous snake the uncoiling volume trails. 

Or gathers orb on orb his iron scales. 

But many a peopled city towers around. 

And many a rocky cliff with castle crowmed. 

And many an antique wall whose hoary brow 
O’ershades the flood that guards its base below. 

All hail, Saturnian earth! hail, loved of fame. 

Land, rich in fruits and men of mighty name ! 

For thee I dare the sacred founts explore. 

For thee, the rules of ancient art restore. 

Themes once to glory raised again rehearse. 

And pour through Roman towns the Ascraean verse.” 

SOTHEBY. 

The raising of cattle and the management of bees form the 
subjects of the remaining books of the Georgies. 

The ^neid narrates in epic verse the adventures of ^ne~ 
as, the legendary ancestor of the Romans. Virgil sums up 
his plot in the opening lines : — 

“ Arms and the man I sing, who first. 

By Fate of Ilian realm amerced. 

To fair Italia onward bore. 

And landed on Laviuium’s shore: — 

Long tossing earth and ocean o’er. 

By violence of heaven, to sate 
Fell Juno’s unforgetting hate : 

Much labored too in battle-field. 

Striving his city’s walls to build. 

And give his Gods a home. 

Thence come the hardy Latin brood. 

The ancient sires of Alba’s blood. 

And lofty-rampired Rome.” 


Virgil’s ^eneid. 


363 


^neas, the son of Venus by the Trojan shepherd Anchi'- 
ses, escaped from burning Troy with his aged father, little 
son, and household gods. He lay concealed for a time in the 
mountains ; and, when the victorious Greeks had all with- 
drawn, took ship with the remnant of his people to found a 
new Troy in the west. After seven years of hardships and 
mistakes, the Trojans embark from Sicily for “the Hespe- 
rian shore.” 

Here the ^neid takes up the story. In the first book we 
see the Trojan fleet driven by a tempest, sent at Juno’s solic- 
itation, on the opposite coast of Africa, near the rising walls 
of Carthage. Dido, its queen, whom the murder of her hus- 
band Sichaeus by her unnatural brother had driven from Tyre, 
receives the strangers hospitably, and by the strategy of Ve- 
nus conceives a passionate love for ^neas. At her request 
the Trojan prince tells the pathetic story — the fall of his na- 
tive city through the wiles of the Greeks, and his subsequent 
trials. 

^neas returns Dido’s love, but only at last to betray his 
confiding hostess, and fly with his vessels under cover of the 
night, in obedience to a warning from Mercury, the messen- 
ger of Jove. Too “pious” to disregard the heavenly com- 
mand, he left Dido to end her sorrow on the funeral pyre. 

After a temporary sojourn in Sicily, where he celebrates 
funeral games to his father’s memory, ^neas at length reaches 
Cumae in Italy, and at once seeks the Sibyl. She informs 
him that his trials are not over, and takes him to the lower 
world that he may hold an interview with his father Anchises. 
There he descries among other shades the injured Dido, to 
whom he endeavors to excuse his conduct. 

“ ’Mid these among the branching treen 
Sad Dido moved, the Tyrian queen, 

Her death-wound ghastly yet and green„ 

Soon as .^neas caught the view 

And through the mist her semblance knew, 


364 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Like one who spies, or thinks he spies, 

Through flickering clouds the new moon rise, 

The tear-drop from his eyelids broke, 

And thus in teuderest tones he spoke . 

‘ Ah Dido ! rightly then I read 
The news that told me you were dead. 

Slain by your own rash hand ! 

Myself the cause of your despair ! 

Now by the blessed stars I swear, 

By heaven, by all that dead men keep 
In reverence here ’mid darkness deep, 

Against my will, ill-fated fair, 

I parted from your land.’ ” 

CONINGTON. 

But Dido averts her eyes “ that neither smiled nor wept,” 
and moves away in silence to join Sichaeus, who “gives her 
love for love.” 

./^neas learns from the lips of Anchises the future of his 
race, and beholds the shadowy forms of kings, generals, and 
statesmen that are to shed glory on the Roman name. “Au- 
gustus Caesar, god by birth,” figures, as we should expect, the 
proudest of the throng. At last he espies the great Marcel- 
lus, “the Sword of Rome,” glittering in the spoils of the Pu- 
nic War ; and by his side 

“ A youth full-armed, by none excelled 
In beauty’s manly grace.” 

In answer to the inquiry of ^neas, Anchises tells his son 
that this youth is “ our own Marcellus,” and eulogizes his vir- 
tues. Thus Virgil immortalized the name of a Roman prince 
of great promise, son of Octavia, the emperor’s sister, whose 
premature death had filled the Roman world with sorrow. 
When, at the request of Augustus, the poet read this portion 
of his epic before the royal family, all were moved to tears, 
and the bereaved mother fainted. She afterward showed her 
appreciation of Virgil’s genius by presenting him about $400 
for each of the twenty-seven lines. The passage is well worth 
repeating here : — 


VIRGIL S ^NEID. 


365 


VIRGIL’S TRIBUTE TO MARCELLUS. 

“ Seek not to know (the ghost replied with tears) 

The sorrows of thy sons in future years. 

This youth (the blissful vision of a day) 

Shall just be shown on earth, then snatched away. 

The gods too high had raised the Roman state, 

Were but their gifts as permanent as great. 

What groans of men shall fill the Martian field ! 

How fierce a blaze his flamiug pile shall yield ! 

What funeral pomj) shall floating Tiber see, 

When rising from his bed, he views the sad solemnity! 

No youth shall equal hopes of glory give. 

No youth afford so great a cause to grieve. 

The Trojan honor, and the Roman boast. 

Admired when living, and adored when lost! 

Mirror of ancient faith in early youth ! 

Undaunted worth, inviolable truth ! 

No foe, unpunished, in the fighting field 

Shall dare thee, foot to foot, with sword and shield ! 

Much less in arms oppose thy matchless force. 

When thy sharp spurs shall urge thy foaming horse. 

Ah I couldst thou break through Fate’s severe decree, 

A new Marcellus shall arise in thee! 

Full canisters of fragrant lilies bring. 

Mixed with the purple roses of the spring : 

Let me with funeral flowers his body strow ; 

This gift which parents to their children owe. 

This unavailing gift, at least I may bestow !” — Dryden. 

From Cumae the Trojan chief sails to Latium, the land of 
his destiny, and there he receives from King Lati'nus the 
promise of his daughter Lavinia’s hand. But this provokes a 
war with Turnus, a neighboring prince, to whom Lavinia had 
been secretly plighted by the queen-mother. Not until he 
had subdued Turnus and his Latin allies did ^neas make 
Lavinia his own and rule as king of Latium. The poem 
ends with the fall of Turnus in a duel between the rival 
chiefs. To fini.sh the story. Alba Longa was built by Ene- 
as’ son lulus, from whose royal line in later ages sprung 
Romulus, founder of Rome, the yulian family, and their 
great hero yulius Caesar. 

The passion of Dido, as portrayed in the fourth book of the 


366 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


^neid, is the most masterly piece of Virgil’s handiwork. We 
present below the closing scenes that sealed her sad fate. • 

THE DEATH OF DIDO. 

“Now, rising from Tithouus’ bed, 

The Dawn on earth her freshness shed : 

The queeu from off her turret height 
Perceives the first dim streak of light, 

The fleet careering on its way, 

■ And void and sailless shore aud bay ; 

She smites her breast, all snowy fair. 

And rends her golden length of hair : 

‘ Great Jove! aud shall he go?’ she cries, 

‘ Aud leave our realm a wanderer’s mock ? 

Quick, snatch your arms and chase the prize, 

And drag the vessels from the dock ! 

Fetch flames, bring darts, ply oars! — yet wiiy? 

What words are these, or where am I ? 

Why rave I thus ? Those impious deeds — 

Poor Dido ! how your torn heart bleeds. 

Too late ! it should have bled that day 
When at his feet your sceptre lay. 

Lo here, the chief of stainless word. 

Who takes his household gods on board, 

Whose shoulders safe from sword aud fire 
Conveyed his venerable sire ! 

Oh ! had I rent him limb from limb 
And cast him o’er the waves to swim. 

His friends, his own Ascanius killed. 

And with the child the father filled ! 

Yet danger in the strife had been : — 

Who prates of danger here ? 

A death-devoted, desperate queen, 

What foe had I to fear ? 

No, I had sown the flame broadcast, 

Had fired the fleet from keel to mast. 

Slain son and sire, stamped out the race, 

Aud thrown at length with steadfast face 
Myself upon the bier. 

If needs must be that wretch abhorred 
Attain the port and float to land , 

If such the fate of heaven’s high lord, 

And so the moveless pillars stand ; 

Scourged by a savage enemy, 

An exile from his son’s embrace, 


EXTRACT FROM VIRGIL S ^NEID. 


367 


So let him sue for aid, and see 
His people slain before his face ; 

Nor when to humbling peace at length 
He stoops, be his or life or land, 

But let him fall in manhood’s strength 
And welter tombless on the sand. 

Such malison to heaven I pour, 

A last libation with my gore. 

And, Tyrians, you through time to come 
His seed with deathless hatred chase : 

Be that your gift to Dido’s tomb : 

No love, no league ’twixt race and race. 
Kise from my ashes, scourge of crime. 

Born to pursue the Dardan horde 
To-day, to-morrow, through all time. 

Oft as our hands can wield the sword : 
Fight shore with shore, light sea with sea, 
Fight all that are or e’er shall be !’ 

She ceased, and with her heart debates 
How best to leave the life she hates. 

Then to Sichmus’ nurse she cried 
(For hers erewhile at Tyre had died) : — 

‘ Good nurse, my sister Anna bring : 

O’er face and body bid her fling 
Pnre drops from lustral bough : 

So sprinkled come, and at her side 
The victims lead : you too provide 
A fillet for your brow. 

A sacrifice to Stygian Jove 
I here perform, to ease my love. 

And give to flame the fatal bed 
Which pillowed once the Trojan’s head.’ 
Thus she : the aged dame gives heed. 

And, feebly hurrying, mends her speed. 

Then, maddening over crime, the queen. 
With bloodshot eyes, and sanguine streaks 
Fresh painted on her quivering cheeks. 
And wanning o’er with death foreseen, 
Through inner portals wildly fares. 

Scales the high pile with swift ascent^ 
Takes up the Dardan sword and bares. 

Sad gift, for different uses meant. 

She eyed the robes with wistful look. 

And, pausing, thought awhile and wept? 
Then pressed her to the couch, and spoke 
Her last good-night or ere slie slept. 


368 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


* Sweet relics of a time of love, 

When fate and heaven were kind, 

Receive my life-blood and remove 
These torments of the mind. 

My life is lived, and I have played 
The part that Fortune gave. 

And now I pass, a queeuly shade. 

Majestic to the grave. 

A glorious city I have built. 

Have seen my walls ascend, 

Chastised for blood of husband spilt 
A brother, yet no friend. 

Blest lot! yet lacked one blessing more, 

That Troy had never touched my shore.’ 

Then as she kissed the darling bed, 

‘ To die I and unrevenged I’ she said, 

‘ Yet let me die : thus, thus I go 
Exulting to the shades below. 

Let the false Dardau feel the blaze 
That burns me pouring on his gaze. 

And bear along, to cheer his way. 

The funeral presage of to-day.’ 

Thus as she speaks, the attendant train 
Behold her writhing as in pain. 

Her hands with slaughter sprinkled o’er. 

And the fell weapon spouting gore. 

Loud clamors thrill the lofty halls : 

Fame shakes the town, confounds, appalls ; 

Each house resounds with women’s cries, 

And funeral wails assault the skies : 

E’en as one day should war o’erthrow 
Proud Carthage or her parent Tyre, 

And fire-flood stream with furious glow 
O’er roof, and battlement, and spire.” 

CONINGTON. 

Virgil’s epic was the pride of his countrymen, who, with a 
pardonable national vanity, pronounced it superior to Ho- 
mer’s. Tenderness, grace, elegance, rhythmical perfection, 
brilliance of description, it certainly possesses ; yet, with all 
its beauties, it is not faultless. We miss the wonderful imag- 
ination that plays through every page of the Iliad ; indeed, 
Homer furnished the originals of many of its most striking 
figures. Nor did Virgil disdain levying on Latin authors also. 


HORACE. 


369 


Whatever recommended itself to him in the poetry of others, 
he borrowed for his own. And yet he must not be regarded 
as a plagiarist; doubtless it was his intention to enshrine in 
a national epic literary monuments of all the great minds of 
his country. 

.^neas, his hero, too often appears as the boaster or the heart- 
less hypocrite, rather than as the ideal of greatness and piety 
it was designed to draw. The author himself seems to have 
felt the inferiority of his epic to the Iliad, and hence his wish 
to destroy it. We are told that it was first written in prose ; 
and then the artist, having a clear conception of the whole, 
threw different portions into verse as the spirit moved him. 
{See Nettles hip's '■'‘Introduction to the Study of the yEneidP) 

Horace (65-8 B.C.). — The great lyric poet of Rome was 
Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus), a freedman’s son, of 
Venusia on the roaring Au'fidus. That he might enjoy the 
best educational advantages, his father took him to Rome at 
the early age of twelve. Here he was placed in charge of a 
famous schoolmaster, called by his pupils “ the Flogger 
under whose rod the country lad made the acquaintance of 
Ennius and Homer. To the watchful care and liberality of 
his parent, who remained to guard him from the temptations 
of the metropolis, he gratefully acknowledged that he owed 
everything. 

Horace was at Athens, finishing his course, when Csesar 
fell beneath the daggers of the conspirators. With a number 
of hot-headed fellow-students he promptly espoused the cause 
of Brutus the Liberator, and served in the civil war as mili- 
tary tribune. But Horace’s courage could not stand the touch 
of cold steel ; he ignominiously fled from the field of Philippi, 
and his estate was confiscated as a reward for his patriotism. 
Poverty now compelled him to take a clerkship at Rome ; 
and to add to his slender income he began writing verses. 
This brought him into notice, and in 38 B.C. he had the hon- 


370 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


or of an introduction to the social circle that gathered round 
Maecenas. His little farm, fifteen miles from Tibur, the ruins 
of which are still pointed out to tourists, was the gift of his 
munificent patron. 

This “ Sabine farm ” was at once Horace’s joy and pride. 
Between Rome and Tibur, therefore, he made frequent jour- 
neys, and the simple country-folk, won by his affability, hailed 
with delight the occasions when, tired of city excitements, he 
sought relaxation among them. Beset by the throng of gos- 
sips and favor-seekers who haunted his footsteps as the friend 
of Maecenas, Horace in his Sixth Satire breaks out into enthu- 
siastic praises of his rural home, with its simple fare and free- 
dom from annoyances : — 


“ This fortune’s favorite son (’tis cried) 
Is ever by Miecenas’ side, 

Companion wheresoe’er he goes, 

In rural sports or festal shoAvs. 

Should any rumor, without head 
Or tail, about the streets be spread, 
Whoever meets me gravely nods. 

And says, ‘As you approach the gods, 

It is no mystery to you ; 

What do the Dacians mean to do?’ 
‘Indeed I know not.’ — ‘ How you joke, 
And love to sneer at simple folk.’ 

‘ Then, pr’ythee, where are Caesar’s bands 
Allotted their long-promised lands ?’ 
Although I swear I know no more 
Of that than what was asked before, 

They stand amazed, and think me then 
The most reserved of mortal men. 
Bewildered thus amidst a maze, 

I lose the sunshine of my days. 

And often wish: Oh! when again 
Shall I behold the rural plain ? 

And when with books of sages deep 
Sequestered ease and gentle sleep. 

In sweet oblivion, blissful balm ! 

The busy cares of life becalm. 

Oh ! when shall Pythagoric beans 
With wdiolesome juice enrich my veins'^ 


HORACE. - 


371 


Aud bacon, bam, and savory pottage, 

Be served within my simple cottage ? 

O nights that furnish such a feast 
As even gods themselves might taste !” 

Francis. 

The loss of his friend Virgil cast a shadow over Horace’s 
latter years. His own death was sudden. A short month 
before, Maecenas had breathed his last ; and thus the promise 
of the poet not to survive his patron was almost literally ful- 
filled. In an ode to Maecenas, Horace had sung, 

“ Should you, alas ! be snatched away, 

Wherefore, ah ! wherefore should I stay, 

My value lost, no longer whole. 

And but possessing half my soul ? 

One day (believe the sacred oath) 

Shall lead the funeral pomp of both ; 

With thee to Pluto’s dark abode, 

With thee I’ll tread the dreary road.” 

The remains of the poet were laid by the side of his friend ; 
and thus, devoted to each other in life, they slept together in 
the grave. {Read Milman’s Life of Horace.^*) 

Horace, in his youth, was a free liver, a voluptuary ; such, 
indeed, were the men of his day, Virgil alone excepted. Time, 
however, corrected his tastes, and at the close of his life we 
find him playing the part of the moralist. If there is much to 
condemn in his character, there is also much to admire, — his 
even temper, contented disposition, and independent spirit. 
Quick to resent an affront, he was as ready to forgive an in- 
jury. His friends found him ever a genial, frank, warm- 
hearted companion. 

As to his personal appearance, we may judge from his own 
accounts that he was gray in advance of his years, short, cor- 
pulent, and withal blear-eyed. This last defect furnished 
Augustus with a ready joke, when he had Horace on one side 
and the asthmatic Virgil on the other : “ I sit between sighs 
and tears,” he used to say. 




372 


KOMAN LITEEATUEE. 


Works of Horace. — The earliest poetical efforts of Hor- 
ace were Satires, which, though written in hexameter verse, 
he called prose-poems. Holding up to contempt the follies of 
fashionable society, fortune -hunting, extravagance, avarice, 
etc., they pleased the Romans and rapidly grew in popularity. 
But Horace merely derides, he does not chastise, the vices of 
his day, evidently deeming ridicule a more effective weapon 
than denunciation. 

In his Epodes, Horace aimed his blows at individuals with 
something like the force of Archilochus. But personal satire 
was not the author’s forte, and his Epodes are hardly equal 
to his other productions. 

It is to his Odes, in the lyric metres of Alcaeus and Sappho, 
whose poetry he not only loved, but recast after his own ideas 
in his native tongue, that Horace owes his renown. Always 
brief and to the point, clear and elegant in their condensa- 
tion, graceful, spicy, true to nature, these poems have been 
read with pleasure for nineteen centuries. They deal with a 
great variety of subjects — the grand as well as the common- 
place ; and, whatever the theme, their author is equally ad- 
mirable. He paints pictures of moral beauty and sublimity 
with singular impressiveness. Nowhere in the classics is a 
nobler character sketched than that drawn by Horace of a 
man firm in the cause of justice {Book III., 3). Byron pre- 
sents it in an English dress : — 

“ The mau of firm and noble soul 
No factious clamors can control ; 

No threat’uing tyrant’s darkling brow 
Can swerve him from his just intent : 

Gales the warring waves which plough 
By Auster on the billows spent. 

To curb the Adriatic main, 

Would awe his fixed, determined mind in vain. 

Ay, and the red right arm of Jove, 

Hurtling his lightnings from above. 


ODES OF HORACE. 


373 


With all his terrors then unfurled, ■ 

He would unmoved, unawed behold : 

The flames of an expiring world 
Again in crashing chaos rolled, 

In vast promiscuous ruin hurled, 

Might light his glorious funeral pile : 

Still dauntless, ’mid the wreck of earth he’d smile.” 

Horace began writing his odes at the age of thirty-five, and 
.was seven years in completing the first three books; they 
were issued 23 B.C. That he designed them to include all 
his lyric productions is evident from the following ode, with 
which the third book closes : — 

“And uow ’tis done : more durable than brass 
My monument shall be, and raise its head 
O’er royal pyramids : it shall not dread 
Corroding rain or angry Boreas, 

Nor the long lapse of immemorial time. 

I shall not wholly die : large residue 
Shall ’scape the queen of funerals. Ever new 
My after-fame shall grow, while pontifls climb 
With silent maids the Capitolian height. 

‘ Born,’ men will say, ‘ where Aufidus is loud. 

Where Dauuns, scant of streams, beneath him bowed 
The rustic tribes, from dimness he waxed bright. 

First of his race to wed the AEoliau lay 
To notes of Italy.’ Put glory on. 

My own Melpomene, by genius won. 

And crown me of thy grace with Delphic bay.” 

CONINGTON. 

The odes of the fourth book were written at the request of 
Augustus, who commissioned the favorite poet to celebrate 
the victories of his step-sons over a German tribe. After pub- 
lishing the original three books, Horace wrote his Epistles, 
the most finished of all his works. They bear the ripe fruits 
of his experience, and are full of wise reflections which do 
credit to his knowledge of men and manners. Sprightliness 
and wit constitute their charm. Their subjects are various, 
several of them being literary criticisms ; the longest, called 
“ the Art of Poetry,” possesses the greatest value. 


374 ' 


KOMAN LITEKATUKE. 


The works of Horace have maintained their popularity in 
all ages; his sententious sayings have become aphorisms; and 
to-day he is a greater favorite with scholars than ever. Few 
classical poets have been so fortunate in their translators. 

ODE TO MAECENAS. 

“ Strong doors, wakeful watch-dogs, securely had barred 
Danae in her tower of brass. 

If Venus and Jove had not laughed at such guard 
And the shower of gold caused to pass. 

Through an army of gugrds will bright gold make its way ; 

It will pierce through the thickest of walls ; 

More power it has and may strike more dismay 
Than the lightning from heaven that falls. 

Through lucre the house of the Argive seer* fell: 

Philip forced cities’ gates with' his gold; 

The power of rivals with bribes he could quell : 

We know, too, how fleets have been sold. 

The increase of wealth ever brings with it care 
And hungry ambition for more; 

Thus, Maecenas, O knight with whom none can compare! 

Great fortune I ever forswore. 

The more that a man to himself shall deny, 

The more he shall have from the gods ; 

Poor, I seek for the home of contentment, and fly 
With joy from the wealthy abodes. 

With my stream of pure water, few acres of wood. 

And secure that my harvest will pay, 

A pleasure I have more substantial than could 
Be to him that o’er Afric holds sway. 

Though for me never works the Calabrian bee. 

Though for me is no Formian wine. 

Though no sheep in the pastures of Gaul feed for me. 

Yet poverty never is mine. 


* Amphiara'us, whose wife betrayed him for a pearl necklace, and was after- 
ward murdered by her son. 


VAKIUS. — TIBULLUS. 


375 


Much must that man want ever who much sluill demaud j 
What he gains whets the covetous vice ; 

Happy he to whom God with a niggardly hand 
Has granted what yet will suffice.’’ — Yardley. 


TO PYRRHA. 

“ What scented stripling, Pyrrha, wooes thee now 
In pleasant cavern, all with roses fair ? 

For whom those yellow tresses bindest thou 

With simple care? 

Full oft shall he thine altered faith bewail, 

His altered gods; and his unwonted gaze 

Shall watch the waters darken to the gale 

In wild amaze, 

Who now believing gloats on golden charms ; 

Who hopes thee ever kind and ever void ; 

Nor, hapless ! knows the changeful wind’s alarms, 

Nor thee, untried. 

For me, let Neptune’s temple wall declare 
How, safe escaped, in votive offering 

My dripping garments own, suspended there. 

Him Ocean-king.” 

Gladstone. 

Varius (74-14 B.C.). — Older than Horace or Virgil in the 
Augustan galaxy was Varius, the friend who introduced them 
both to Maecenas. An epic on the death of Caesar, highly 
esteemed by his countrymen, — and a tragedy entitled “Thy- 
estes,” classed with the finest Greek dramas, — have won for 
Varius an enviable fame. 

Both are lost ; but we still have the benefit of the poet’s 
labors as the editor of Virgil’s ^neid. 

Albius Tibullus (59-19 B.C.), another poet of the Augustan 
age, perfected the erotic elegy which Catullus had introduced 
from Greece. The meagre accounts that remain of his life in- 
form us that he was a knight, and lost his estates near Rome 
for political reasons, after the overthrow of Pompey. These 
he partially recovered, it is supposed through the influence of 


376 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Messa'la, a noble of the old school, whose praises he never 
tired of sounding. As aide-de-camp, he accompanied Mes- 
sala in his expedition against the rebellious Aquitanians, and 
doubtless figured in the triumph decreed his victorious friend 
by the emperor. 

A peaceful life, however, was more in accordance with his 
tastes. The hills and dales, the corn-fields, vineyards, and 
meadows, possessed greater charms for him than the favor of 
Augustus, who vainly sought to attract Tibullus to his court. 
Hence we find the poet generally living at his country-seat, 
amid rural enjoyments. 

The elegies of Tibullus preserve the names of two Roman 
beauties — “Delia,” the early mistress of his heart, and “Nem'- 
esis,” her successor. Delia, “ with her queenly charms and 
golden locks,” first brought him to her feet, and he wooed her 
in his most finished strains. But, like Catullus, he soon found 
occasion to lament his fair one’s inconstancy. Delia jilted 
him for a richer lover, and Tibullus transferred his affections 
to the imperious Nemesis. 

The style of Tibullus is sweet and polished. A pensive, 
almost melancholy tone pervades his verses. In the follow- 
ing plaintive elegy, the injured but forgiving poet recalls to 
his false one how tenderly he nursed her through a critical 
sickness, picturing his dream of happiness with her installed 
as the mistress of his rural home, and his rude awakening: — . 

ELEGY TO DELIA. 

“Oh! I was harsh to say that I could part 
From thee; bat, Delia, I am bold no more! 

Driven like a top, which boys with ready art 
Keep spinning round upon a level floor. 

Burn, lash me, love, if ever after this 

By me one cruel, blustering word is said ; 

Yet spare, I pray tliee by our stolen bliss. 

By mighty Venus and thy comely head. 


PROPERTIUS. 




When thou didst lie, hy Ml disease o’eipowered, 

I rescued thee, by prayers, from death’s domain ; 

Pure sulphur’s cleansing fumes I round thee showered, 

While an enchantress sung a magic strain. 

Yes — and another now enjoys the prize. 

And reaps the fruit of all my vows for thee : 

Foolish, 1 dreamed of life’ueath golden skies, 

Wert thou but saved — not such great heaven’s decree. 

I said — I’ll till my fields, she’ll guard my store 

When crops are threshed in autumn’s burning heat; 

She’ll keep my grapes in baskets brimming o’er, 

And my rich must expressed by nimble feet. 

She’ll count my flock ; some home-born slave of mine 
Will prattle in my darling’s lap and play : 

To rural god ripe clusters for the viue. 

Sheaves for my crops, cates for my fold, she’ll pay. 

Slaves — all shall own her undisputed rule ; 

Myself a cipher — how the thought would please! 

Here will Messala come, for whom she’ll pull 
The sweetest apples from the choicest trees ; 

And, honoring one so great, for him prepare 

And serve the banquet with her own white hands. 

Fond dream I which now the east and south winds bear 
Away to far Armenia’s spicy lands.” 

Cranstoux. 

Propertius. — With the name of Tibullus is often linked 
that of Propertius, who was born about 50 B.C. at Assisium, 
among the Umbrian mountains. In this lovely spot he was 
prepared for the study of the law, which he afterward adopted 
as his profession at Rome. But Propertius found this calling 
distasteful; relinquishing it, accordingly, for the pursuits of 
literature, he aspired to be a Roman Callimachus, and ground- 
ed himself in the principles of Alexandrian verse. But too 
much study made him artificial, and his numerous mytholog- 
ical allusions and digressions encumber rather than embel- 
lish. He lacks the sweetness, simplicity, and tenderness, of 
Tibullus. 


378 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Catullus had his “ Lesbia Tibullus, his “ Delia and 
Propertius, profiting not by the example of his brother bards, 
lavished his affections on the accomplished but fickle “ Cyn- 
thia,” who played him false as soon as a rich praetor laid a 
fortune at her feet. Cynthia was the single theme of our 
poet’s love-lays, all rapture or gentle reproach. In an elegy 
to Maecenas, who had pressed him to attempt an epic, he 
sings : — 

“ You ask me why love-elegy so frequeutly I follow, 

Aud why my little book of tender trifles only sings: 

It is not from Calliope, nor is it from Apollo, 

But from my own sweet lady-love my inspiration springs. 

If in resplendent purple robe of Cos ray darling dresses, 
ril till a portly volume with the Coan garments’ praise ; 

Or if her truant tresses wreathe her forehead with caresses, 

The tresses of her queenly brow demand her poet’s lays.” 

In another elegy he describes his Cynthia’s charms : — 

‘‘’Twas not her face, though fair, so smote my eye 
(Less fair the lily than my love : as snows 
Of Scythia with Iberian vermeil vie ; 

As float in milk the petals of the rose) ; 

Nor locks that down her neck of ivory stream. 

Nor eyes — my stars — twin lamps with love aglow ; 

Nor, if in silk of Araby she gleam 

(I prize not baubles), does she thrill me so, 

As wlien she leaves the mantling cup to thread 
The mazy dance, and moves before my view, 

Graeeful as blooming Ariadne led 

The choral revels of the Bacchic crew.” 

The death of Propertius is supposed to have taken place 
about 15 B.C. Of his elegies, there is none better than 

LOVE’S DREAM REALIZED. 

■'^Not in his Dardan triumph so rejoiced the great Atrides, 

When fell the mighty kingdom of Laoniedon of yore ; 

Not so Ulysses, when he moored his wave- worn raft beside his 

Beloved Dulichian island-home — his wearj*^ wanderings o’er; 


OVID. 


379 


As I, when last eve’s rosy joys I ruminated over : 

To me another eve like that were immortality ! 

Awhile before with downcast head I walked a pining lover — 

More useless I had grown, ’twas said, than water-tank run dry. 

No more my darling passes me with silent recognition, 

Nor can she sit unmoved while I outpour my tender vow. 

I wish that I had sooner realized this blest condition ; 

’Tis pouring living water on a dead man’s ashes now. 

In vain did others seek my love, in vain they called upon her, 

She leaned her head upon my breast, was kind as girl could be. 

Of conquered Parthians talk no more, I’ve gained a nobler honor. 
For she’ll be spoils, and leaders, and triumphal car to me. 

Light of my life! say, shall my bark reach shore with gear befitting, 
Or, dashed amid the breakers, with her cargo run aground ? 

With thee it lies : but if, perchance, through fault of my committing. 
Thou giv’st me o’er, before thy door let my cold corse be found.” 

CRAJsSTOUN. 

Ovid (43 B.C.-17 A.D.). — Publius Ovidius Naso, the last 
of the Augustan poets, was a knight of Sulmo, an ancient 
Samnite town in the eastern part of Italy. Designed for the 
legal profession, he was sent to Rome to be educated ; but 
the writing of verses was more congenial than rhetorical 
studies ; and an eminent critic of the day, on hearing one of 
his early declamations, described it as “ nothing else than 
poetry out of metre.” 

After the death of an elder son, his father consented that 
Publius should follow the bent of his own inclinations, and 
the poet went abroad to study in Greece and travel in Asia 
Minor. Returning to Rome, he began his literary career as 
the glory of the Augustan age was beginning to fade. 

For twenty-two years Ovid wasted his talents on the com- 
position of licentious love-poems. In the “Loves” (Amo'res), 
the earliest of his works, one Corinna is addressed through- 
out. The hearty reception with which these loose songs met 
at Rome is a sad comment on the degeneracy of the pub- 
lic taste and morals. They were followed by the “ Hero'* 

Q2 


380 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


ides,” a collection of twenty-one imaginary love-letters, in« 
scribed by the heroines of the past to their absent or unfaith- 
ful lords — an original idea with Ovid. Penelope indicts an 
epistle to Ulysses, Medea to Jason, Sappho to Phaon, etc. 
In the one last named, translated by Pope, the Lesbian poet- 
ess informs the youth of her resolve to take the Lover’s Leap. 

“A spring there is, where silver waters show. 

Clear as a glass, the shining sands below ; 

A flowery lotus spreads its arms above. 

Shades all the banks, and seems itself a grove ; 

Eternal greens the mossy margin grace, 

Watched by the sylvan genius of the place. 

Here as I lay, and swelled with tears the flood. 

Before my sight a watery virgin stood : 

She stood and cried, ‘O you that love in vain. 

Fly hence, and seek the fair Leucadiau main ! 

There stands a rock, from whose impending steep 
Apollo’s fane surveys the rolling deep ; 

There injured lovers, leaping from above, 

Their flames extinguish and forget to love. 

Hence, Sappho, haste! from high Leucadia throw 
Thy wretched weight, nor dread the deeps below.’ 

She spoke, and vanished with the voice — I rise. 

And silent tears fall trickling from my eyes. 

I go, ye nymphs, those rocks and seas to prove : 

And much I fear ; but ah ! how much I love ! 

To rocks and seas I fly from Phaon!s hate, 

And hope from seas and rocks a milder fate.” 

In the “ Art of Love,” Ovid again overleaped the bounds 
of propriety, and threw so brilliant a coloring into his pictures 
of vice that his readers were fain to linger over them, to en- 
joy, and to admire, with manifest danger to their own morals. 
When even a daughter of the imperial line was corrupted 
by them, Augustus, the professed defender of virtue, felt 
that it was time to stop the dissemination of such principles, 
and visited the poet with his displeasure. In consequence 
of a subsequent and more serious offence, in some way con- 
nected with the royal family, but the nature of which we can 
only conjecture, Ovid suddenly received notice to quit the 


ovid’s poetry. 


381 


capital forever, and retire to To'mi, a dreary and desolate 
village on the Black Sea, A.D. 9. Despite his urgent pray- 
ers, the decree of banishment was never revoked. 

The works of his eight years’ exile are the “ Tristia,” or 
Sorrows, “ Letters from Pontus,” and some shorter poems ; 
they prove his genius to have been crushed, his spirit broken. 
Tomi gave Ovid a grave ; even his request to be buried in 
Italy was refused. 

The best of Ovid’s works were the “Fasti,” or Roman Cal- 
endar, a pleasant almanac in verse, and the “ Metamorphoses,” 
ingenious in both conception and expression. While engaged 
on the Fasti, which he intended to complete in twelve books, 
one dedicated to each month, the poet was surprised by the 
decree of banishment, and left his work unfinished. 

The Metamorphoses, from which modern writers have large- 
ly drawn, gives an account of the transformations of ancient 
mythology, such as the changing of lo into a heifer. Daphne 
into a laurel, the sisters of Phaeton into the poplars of the Po, 
and Atlas into a mountain of stone by the gorgon-head of 
Perseus. One of the prettiest of these poems relates to the 
metamorphosis of the ivory statue wrought by Pygmalion, into 
a living bride, by the goddess of beauty, in answer to the 
sculptor’s prayer : — 

PYGMALION’S STATUE. 

The scnlptor sought 

His home, and, bending o’er the couch that bore 

His Maiden’s life-like image, to her lips 

Fond pressed his own — and lo! her lips seemed warm, 

And warmer, kissed again ; and dimpling to his touch 
The ivory seems to yield, — as in the sun 
The waxen labor of Hymettus’ bees, 

By plastic fingers wrought, to various shape 
And use by use is fashioned. Wonder-spelled, 

Scarce daring to believe his bliss, in dread 
Lest sense deluded mock him, on the form 
He loves again and yet again his hand 
Lays trembling touch, and to his touch a pulse 


382 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Within throbs answering palpable : ’twas flesh! 

’Twas very life ! — Then forth in eloquent flood 
His grateful heart its thanks to Venus poured! 

The lips he kissed were living lips that felt 
His passionate pressure ; o’er the virgin cheeks 
Stole deepening crimson ; and the unclosing eyes 
At once on heaven and on their lover looked !” 

Henry King. 

With the death of Ovid, the flourishing period of poetry ter* 
minated. Among his contemporaries, we may mention, in 
passing, the epic poets Albinova'nus author of the These'id, 
and Cornelius Seve'rus, who wrote an heroic on the war 
between Augustus and Sextus Pompey. The didactic poets 
Gratius and Manilius also flourished in the Augustan age ; 
the former memorable for his poem on hunting, the latter for 
his “ Astronomica.” 


PROSE WAITERS. 

Titus Livius. — The last ornament of the Augustan Era is 
the historian Livy, born at PataVium (now Padua) about 59 
B.C. — the scion of a noble line that had figured proudly in the 
annals of the Republic. His was the uneventful life of the 
scholar, and few particulars of his biography have therefore 
been preserved. He appears to have begun his career as a 
rhetorician; to have come to the capital about B.C. 31, for 
what precise purpose we cannot say, and there to have gained 
a ready introduction at court. The emperor, already favora- 
bly impressed with his ability, is said to have placed at his 
disposal a suite of rooms in the palace. 

Perhaps, as his importunities made the reluctant Virgil the 
great epic poet of Rome, so Augustus may have stirred the 
ambition of Livy to become its historian ; whether he did or 
not, we find the rhetorician of Patavium, soon after taking up 
his abode at the imperial city, entering upon the composition 
of his “Annals,” a work which progressed simultaneously with 
the ^neid. As the different decades (divisions of ten books) 


LIVY. 


383 


were completed, the author, after first reading them to Augus- 
tus and Maecenas, published them for the perusal of his coun- 
trymen. They at once made his reputation, and became the 
received authority on the national history, raising Livy during 
his lifetime, as at the present day, to the rank of the most dis- 
tinguished historians. The estimation in which they were 
held may be inferred from the story of Pliny — that a citizen 
of Cadiz came all the way to Italy merely to see the great 
writer the whole Roman world was talking about. 

For forty years Livy labored on his history. At the time 
of his death, which took place in his native town, 17 A.D., he 
had finished 142 books, covering nearly seven and a half cen- 
turies from the founding of Rome. It is supposed that he 
intended to add eight more, embracing the entire reign of 
Augustus. Only thirty-five of the original books have been 
recovered. 

The loss of the decades relating to the civil wars is much 
to be deplored, and it has ever been the hope of scholars that 
some day the missing parts would be found. Several times 
has the literary world been thrown into excitement by false 
rumors of their discovery. Qnce, we are told, a learned man 
detected in the parchment covering of a battledoor with which 
he was playing a page of the favorite historian ; but on has- 
tening to the maker of the toy, to rescue the prized manuscript 
to which it had belonged, he found that all had been utilized 
in a similar manner. A meagre synopsis of the books that 
have perished, serves only to make us regret their loss the 
more keenly. {Read Taine's ^'‘Essai sur Tite Live”) 

Livy’s “Annals” is a model of elegant historical writing, 
and a repertory of tales and traditions of early heroism, which 
have made Roman virtue and prowess the admiration of the 
world ; yet his statements must be taken with many grains of 
allowance. Not that he wilfully misrepresented, but rather 
that he trusted too implicitly authorities of doubtful veracity, 


384 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


and shrunk from the labor of thorough original investigation. 
Moreover, a vein of exaggeration runs through his pages. It 
was doubtless his intention to be impartial ; but carried away 
by a natural bias, he was too ready to color or cover over the 
blots on his country’s escutcheon. That he stooped not to 
curry favor with his superiors is evident from the epithet ap- 
plied to him by Augustus — “the Pompeyite ” — by reason of 
his warm praises of Caesar’s rival. Ignorance of geography, 
military science, and even of the constitutional development 
of Rome, is conspicuous in his narrative. 

As an artist, however, Livy was great. He excels in de- 
picting character, whether directly by description, or indirect- 
ly in the actions or utterances of the old Roman worthies. 
Hence, artificial as they are and often smelling of the rhetori- 
cian’s lamp, the speeches which Livy puts in the mouths of his 
different personages display his genius to advantage. One of 
the finest, giv^en below, is that of the old Horatius, pleading 
with the people for the life of his son. According to the le- 
gend, in a war between Rome and Alba Longa, it was agreed 
by the contending parties, to save unnecessary bloodshed, that 
the question at issue should bq decided by a hand-to-hand 
conflict between three champions on each side, — the brothers 
Horatii for Rome, the Curiatii for Alba. All fell save one 
Horatius. We leave the conclusion of the story to Livy : — 

THE CRIME AND PUNISHMENT OF HORATIUS. 

Horatius advauced at the head of the Romans, hearing in triumph 
the spoils of the three brothers. Near the gate Capena he was met 
by his sister, a maiden who had been betrothed to one of the Curia- 
tii ; observing on her brother’s shoulder the military robe of her 
lover, made by her own hands, she tore her hair, and with loud and 
mournful outcries called on the name of the deceased. His sister’s 
lamentations, in the midst of his own triumph aud of so great public 
joy, irritated the tierce youth to such a degree that, drawing his 
sword, he plunged it into ber breast, at the same time upbraiding her 
in these words : ‘ Begone to thy spouse with thy unseasonable love, 
since thou couhlst forget what is due to the memory of thy deceased 


EXTRACT FROM LIVY. 


385 


brothers, to him who still survives, and to thy native country; so 
perish every daughter of Rome that shall mourn for its enemy !’ 

Both the senate and people were shocked at the horrid deed ; hut 
still, in their opinion, his recent merit outweighed its guilt : he was, 
however, instantly carried before the king for judgment. The king, 
unwilling to take on himself a decision of so melancholy a nature, 
summoned an assembly of the people, and then said : ‘ I appoint two 
commissioners to pass judgment on Horatins for murder, according 
to the law.’ The law was of dreadful import : ‘ Let two conimission- 
ers pass judgment for murder; if the accused appeal from the com- 
missioners, let the appeal he tried ; if their sentence be confirmed, 
cover his head, hang him by a rope on the gallows, let him be scourged 
either within the Pomoerium* or without the Pomcerium.’ 

The two commissioners appointed were of opinion that, according 
to this law, they were not authorized to acquit him ; and, after they 
had found him guilty, one of them pronounced judgment in these 
words : ‘ Publius Horatins, I sentence thee to punishment as a mur- 
derer; go, lictor, hind his hands.’ The lictor had come up to him, 
and was fixing the cord, when Horatins, by the advice of Tullus, wdio 
wished to give the mildest interpretation to the law, said, ‘ I appeal ;’ 
so the trial on the appeal came before the Commons. 

During this trial, the people were very dee^dy affected, especially 
by the behavior of Publius Horatins, the father, who declared that 
‘ in his judgment his daughter was deservedly put to death ; had it 
not been so, he would, bj' his own authority as a father, have inflict- 
ed punishment on his son.’ He then besought them that ‘they 
would not leave him childless, whom they had beheld, but a few 
hours ago, surrounded by a progeny of uncommon merit.’ Uttering 
these words, the old man embraced the youth, and iiointiug to the 
spoils of the Curiatii, which were hung up in the place where now 
stands the Horatian column, exclaimed : — 

‘O my fellow- citizens! can you bear to behold him laden with 
chains, and condemned to ignominy, stripes, and torture, whom but 
just now' you saw covered with the ornaments of victory, marching 
in triumph — a sight so horrid that scarcely could the eyes of the Al- 
bans themselves endure it? Go, lictor, bind the arms which but 
now wielded those weapons that acquired dominion to the Roman 
people ; cover the head of that man to whom your city owes its lib- 
erty; hang him upon the gallows. Scourge him within the Pomoe- 
rium; but do it between those pillars to which are suspended the 
trophies of his victory. Scourge him w ithout the Pomcerium ; but 
do it between the graves of the Curiatii. For to what place can ye 
lead this youth, where the monuments of his glory would not re- 
deem him from the ignominy of such a punishment ?’ 

The people could not withstand either the tears of the father, or 


* A consecrated ground in ancient Rome, on which it was unlawfid to build. 


386 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


the iutrepid spirit of the youth himself, which no kind of danger 
could appall; and rather out of admiratiou of his bravery than re- 
gard to the justice of his cause, they passed a sentence of acquittal. 
Wherefore, that some expiation might be made for the act of mani- 
fest murder, the father was ordered to make atonement for his sou 
at the public expense. After performing expiatory sacrifices, which 
continued afterward to be celebrated by the Horatiau family, he laid 
a beam across the street, and, covering the young man’s head, made 
him pass, as it were, under the yoke. The beam remains to this 
day, being constantly kept in repair at the expense of the public, 
and is called the Sister’s beam. A tomb of squared stone was raised 
for Horatia ou the spot where she fell.” — Baker. 

In addition to the “Annals of Rome,” Livy also wrote his- 
torical and philosophical dialogues, which we know only by 
name. {See CapeVs Ititroduction to the Study of Livy.") 

Pompeius Trogus, contemporary with Livy, produced a his- 
tory of the world, extending from the founding of Nineveh to 
the Christian Era. Macedonia fills an important place in this 
work, an abridgment of which is still in existence. 

A prominent rhetorician of the Augustan period was the 
elder Seneca, of Cordova, in Spain. Portions of his works 
(which consist of rhetorical exercises on imaginary cases, 
historical events, and circumstances in the lives of great 
men, written for the benefit of his sons) have survived ; but 
nothing remains of a history of Rome ascribed to him. 

The orators Messala and Asinius Pollio graced the early 
years of the first emperor’s reign ; but, when political elo- 
quence was interdicted, they retired to private life, — Pollio, 
to win new laurels by his tragedies and other literary compo- 
sitions. Both were patrons of literature, and loved to gather 
round them the eminent poets of their day. Messala’s ora- 
tions, known to us only by a few fragments that remain, were 
regarded as almost equal to Cicero’s; while Pollio, none of 
whose works have been preserved, was ranked by his contem- 
poraries with Cicero as an orator, with Virgil as a poet, and 
with Sallust as an historian. 


EDUCATION AMONG THE HOMANS. 


387 


MINOR POETS AND PROSE WRITERS. 


Helvius Cimna (50 B.C.) : author of 
the lost epic “ Smyrna,” the fruit of 
nine years’ labor. In one of his Ec- 
logues, Virgil compared himself in 
the company of Cinna and his friend 
Varius to a goose among swans. 

Licinius Calvus (82-47 B.C.) : poet 
and orator; elegies, epigrams, and 
love-songs in the style of Catullus; 
an epic “ lo ;” no remains. 

Valgius Rufus, a friend of Horace : 
an epic and elegiac poet. 

iEuius Gallus : a noted jurist. 


Tu'beko (48 B.C.) the historian: con- 
temporary with SaUust. 

Vekrius Flaccus ; a renowned gram- 
marian; author of a voluminous Lat- 
in lexicon, which is lost. His work 
was subsequently condensed into 
twenty volumes. 

Vitruvius Pollio, the great architect 
of the Augustan Era : he prepared a 
comprehensive work on the science 
of architecture, long received as au- 
thority. 

Titus Labie'nus : an orator and his- 
torian. 


NOTES ON EDUCATION, ETC., AMONG THE ROMANS. 

Education never compulsory, as in Greece. Its chief aim in early times to 
make warriors and statesmen. Children usually grounded in the rudiments by 
their mother, the father occasionally doing service as a teacher of reading and 
writing. From the Greeks, the Romans adopted the custom of employing 
gogi to instruct their children or accompany them to and from school. 

Private schools in Rome about 450 B.C. ; Virginia insulted by Appius Clau- 
dius, while on her way to school. The youth instructed at these institutions in 
reading, writing, and arithmetic, and required to memorize the laws of the Twelve 
Tables. Grammar was next essayed ; and a course in rhetoric and oratory com- 
pleted the Roman boy’s education. Many continued their studies at Athens, 
Rhodes, or Alexandria. 

The teachers often provincials or freedmen. In the golden age, Greek tutors 
very generally the companions and flatterers of the wealthy Romans. During 
the reign of Augustus, great schools at Cordova and Marseilles rivalled the 
academy of Flaccus at Rome, the favorite of the emperor, who paid Flaccus a 
salary of $3,600, and offered special inducements in the way of prizes to such as 
would join his school. Under Vespasian the first Roman college, the Athenaeum, 
was established; botany, zoology, and mineralogy, now became favorite studies. 

Rome had its booksellers in the golden age, to supply the demand for standard 
authors and school manuals. Books multiplied rapidly by transcription, and 
were cheap in proportion. At the beginning of the first century B.C., many 
private libraries in Rome; every noble took pride in his collection of manu- 
scripts. First public library founded by Asinius Pollio, whose example was 
followed by others. (Consult Gove's “ Companion to School Classics.") 


388 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Earliest known attempts at journalism, 59 B.C. The Acta of the senate and 
of the people, the first publications. The latter, a daily (diurna, whence jour- 
nal), had an extensive circulation throughout the Roman territories. Stenog- 
raphy practised at this time by the Romans, and subsequently taught in their 
schools. A freedman of Cicero said to have invented the system of short-hand. 
Sympathetic ink in use for writing love-letters and secret correspondence. For 
tills purpose Ovid recommends milk, which may be made visible by dusting pow- 
dered charcoal on the letters. To keep mice from gnawing their papyrus and 
parchment rolls, some Roman writers mixed wormwood with their inks. 


CHAPTER IV. 

AGE OF DECLINE. 

Silver Age of Roman Letters. — With the death of Augustus 
and the accession of his step-son Tiberius, despotism in its 
worst form was established at Rome, and, as in Greece, a de- 
cline of letters immediately followed. Symptoms of fiterary 
decay had already shown themselves in the reign of the first 
emperor, although he took care to conceal his assumption of. 
absolute power under the mask of republican forms, and was 
known to all as a patron of learning. Tiberius, on the con- 
trary, openly declared himself the enemy of freedom, both 
political and intellectual ; and when, in 37- A.D., his attend- 
ants, no longer able to endure his rule of blood, smothered 
the monster with pillows, Latin literature was at its lowest ebb. 

A brief renaissance, however, succeeded ; so that the impe- 
rial fiend Nero was able to number among his victims an epic 
poet, Lucan, and a philosopher and dramatist of no common 
stamp, Seneca. Under the Caesars, genius was hopelessly 
fettered ; a chance word might condemn its author to the 
headsman ; the poet, the historian, the orator, must needs 
suppress his sentiments or forfeit his self-respect by flattering 
the reigning despot. 


PERIOD OP DECLINE. 


389 


A brighter day dawned with the mild rule of Nerva, Tra- 
jan, Hadrian, and the Antonines (96-180 A.D.). During this 
golden age of the Roman empire, poetry for a time recov- 
ered its vitality, and through the stinging satires of Juvenal 
denounced the abuses that had prevailed in the days of Nero 
and Domitian; while in the histories of Tacitus, prose indig- 
nantly broke its enforced silence, and held up to public de- 
testation the despots of the past. But this revival was short- 
lived. Latin literature rapidly degenerated, for Latin genius 
was no more. In the later centuries of the empire, science 
and jurisprudence alone flourished on the soil where poetry 
had now ceased to bloom. {Refer to Nisard's '■'‘Etudes sur les 
Poetes Latins de la Dkadencey) 

ERA OP THE C-ESARS (14-96 A.D.). 

In the reign of Tiberius, we meet with the names of Vel- 
leius Paterculus, the court historian, Celsus, and Phaedrus. 

Velleius Paterculus is memorable for his epitome of Ro- 
man history, a work in other respects meritorious, but marred 
by its author’s servile praise of Tiberius. Yet we must re- 
member that Velleius was not permitted to see the worst 
phase of this emperor’s tyranny. When the treachery of the 
prime minister Seja'nus was exposed, the historian, though 
not implicated with him, was one of the first to be put to 
death. He was thus prevented from witnessing the murders 
of hundreds of other innocent persons — atrocities that might 
have altered his estimate of his ungrateful master. 

Valerius Maximus, his contemporary and fellow -flatterer, 
prepared a cyclopaedia of anecdotes gleaned from the history 
of Rome and foreign countries, entitled “ Remarkable Deeds 
and Sayings.” It was designed for the use of persons who 
had not the time or inclination to make original investiga- 
tions, and, though written in an artificial style, contains much 
that is interesting. 


390 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


Celsus was the author of a scientific encyclopaedia, whose 
twenty books were devoted to farming, medicine, rhetoric, 
jurisprudence, and military tactics. The eight books on med- 
icine still survive, constituting the great Roman authority on 
that subject. 

Before his day the art of medicine and surgery had been 
almost entirely confined to Greek physicians ; but Celsus 
dignified it as a calling worthy of Romans, not only practis- 
ing with success among his countrymen, but committing to 
writing the results of his experience. He was the first an- 
cient author who recommended the tying of blood-vessels for 
the purpose of checking hemorrhage. 

PhSBdrus, the only noteworthy poet of Tiberius’s reign, is 
known to us by his fables. Of his life, we have few facts. He 
is supposed to have been brought from Thrace to Rome, as a 
captive ; and to have lived there as the slave of Augustas, 
who, recognizing his latent talent, gave him an education and 
finally his freedom. 

In the sunshine of his patron’s smiles, Phaedrus led a hap- 
py life ; but on the death of Augustus he was exposed to the 
persecutions of Sejanus, who virtually controlled the state 
under the succeeding emperor, and who affected to see in the 
poet’s fables masked attacks upon his own vicious career. 
Phaedrus, however, outlived all his enemies, and died at a 
good old age. 

The fables of Phaedrus, preserved in a single manuscript, 
were discovered in an abbey at Rheims (1561), and, after 
narrowly escaping destruction at the hands of some French 
fanatics, were published to the world. In the main trans- 
lated or imitated from ^sop, whom their author thus made 
known to the Romans, they commend themselves for their 
conciseness and simplicity, as well as for the moral lessons 
they convey. His “ pleasant tales ” may be judged of by the 
following specimens : — 


FABLES OF PH^DRUS. 


391 


THE FOX AND THE GOAT. 

“ A crafty knave will make escape, 

When once he gets into a scrape, 

Still meditating self-defence. 

At any other man’s expense. 

A fox by some disaster fell 
Into a deep and feucM well : 

A thirsty goat came down in haste. 

And asked about the water’s taste. 

If it was plentiful and sweet ? 

At which the fox, in rank deceit : — 

‘ So great the solace of the run, 

I thought I never should have done. 

Be quick, my friend, your sorrows drown,' 
This said, the sillj^ goat comes down. 

The subtle fox herself avails. 

And by his horns the height she scales, 
And leaves the goat in all the mire. 

To gratify his heart’s desire.” 


THE BALD MAN AND THE FLY. 

“As on his head she chanced to sit, 

A man’s bald pate a gadfly bit ; 

He, prompt to crush the little foe. 

Dealt on himself a grievous blow. 

At which the fly, deriding, said : — 

‘You who would strike an insect dead 
For one slight sting, in wrath so strict. 

What punishment will you inflict 
Upon yourself, whose heavy arm. 

Not my poor bite, did all the harm V 
‘ Oh !’ says the party, ‘ as for me, 

I with myself can soon agree; 

The intention of the act is all. 

But thou, detested cannibal ! 

Bloodsucker ! to have thee secured. 

More would I gladly have endured.’ 

What by this moral tale is meant 
Is, those who wrong not with intent 
Are venial ; but to those that do. 

Severity is surely due.”— Christopher Smart. 

The three great ornaments of Nero’s reign (54-68 A.D.) 
were Persius the satirist, Seneca, and his nephew Lucan. 


392 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Persius. — Born at the Etruscan town of Volaterrae (34 A.D.), 
Persius was brought to Rome by his mother at the age of 
twelve, and there educated. In the Stoic, Cornu'tus, he found 
his ideal preceptor, and to this “best of friends” the poet 
pays a beautiful tribute in the following verses, among the 
finest he ever wrote : — 

“When first I laid the purple^ by, and free, 

Yet trembling at my new-felt liberty, 

Approached the hearth, and on the Lares hung 
The bulla, from my willing neck unstrung ; 

When gay associates, sporting at my side, 

And the white boss, displayed with conscious pride. 

Gave me, unchecked, the haunts of vice to trace, 

And throw my wandering eyes on every face, 

I fled to you. Cornu tus, pleased to rest 
My hopes and fears on your Socratic breast ; 

Nor did you, gentle sage, the charge decline. 

Then, dextrous to beguile, your steady line 
Reclaimed, I know not by what winning force. 

My morals, warped from virtue’s straighter course. 

Can I forget how many a summer’s day. 

Spent in your converse, stole unmarked away f 
Or how, while listening with increased delight, 

I snatched from feasts the earlier hours of night? 

One time (for to yonr bosom still I grew). 

One time of study and of rest we knew ; 

One frugal board where, every care resigned. 

An hour of blameless mirth relaxed the mind.” — Gifford. 

Death overtook our poet in his 28th year (62 A.D.). All 
we have of his writings is six satires — only 650 hexameter 
lines. After his death these were published, and elicited un- 
bounded admiration. Other works of his were torn up by his 
mother, who deemed them unworthy of his genius. Persius 
bequeathed to Cornutus his library of 700 manuscripts. 

The satires of Persius were written in the interest of moral- 
ity, and what gave them weight was that all knew their author 


* An allusion to the change from the purple-bordered toya of the youth, to the 
toffa virilis, or manly robe. 


PERSIUS. 


393 


to be a man who practised the virtue he commended, a man 
of stainless character in an age of universal licentiousness. 
And yet we do not find him lashing vice as we should expect. 
Was he loath to do so, lest the very pictures he must draw 
might corrupt? Or, was Persius forced to hold his peace in 
the presence of a despot who revelled in the vilest excesses, 
whose policy it was to reduce his subjects to his own low 
level ? Perhaps for both reasons he preferred to assail wick- 
edness in the abstract. Certainly his “ maidenly modesty *’ 
shrunk from portraying the hideous sins that flaunted around 
him, while his philosophical tenets inclined him to keep aloof 
from the world. {Read Nettleship's ^^T/ie Roman SaturaP) 
Poetasters and pedants that pandered to the perverted 
taste of the day, received the brunt of his attack in his First 
Satire. The Second discusses the proper subjects of prayer. 
How few, says the poet, would be willing to have their peti- 
tions made public: — 

“ Hard, hard the task, from the low muttered prayer 
To free the fanes; or find one suppliant there, 

Who dares to ask but what his state requires, 

And live to heaven and earth with known desires! 

Sound sense, integrity, a conscience clear. 

Are begged aloud, that all at hand may hear ; 

But prayers like these (half whispered, half suppressed) 

The tongue scarce hazards fioin the conscious breast : — 

‘ O that I could my rich old uncle see 

In funeral pomp !’ — ‘ O that some deity 

To pots of buried gold would guide my share !’ — 

‘ O that ray ward, whom I succeed as heir. 

Were once at rest! poor child, he lives in pain, 

And death to him must be accounted gain.’ — 

‘ By wedlock thrice has Nerius swelled his store. 

And now — is he a widower once more!’” 


The Second Satire concludes with these noble lines 

No ; let me bring the immortal gods a mind. 
Where legal and where moral sense are joined 
With the pure essence ; holy thoughts, that dwell 
In the soul’s most retired and sacred cell ; 


394 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


A bosom dyed in honor’s noblest grain, 

Deep-dyed — with these let me approach the fane, 

And Heaven will hear the humble prayer I make, 

Though all my offering be a barley-cake.” — G ifford. 

Lucius Annaeus Seneca, son of the rhetorician, was born at 
Cordova B.C. 7, but received his education at Rome under 
the supervision of his father. From the first he displayed 
great interest in his studies, and as he grew in years he in- 
dulged his natural bent for philosophical researches. So 
thorough a Pythagorean did he become that he even es- 
chewed animal food, lest he should devour flesh that had 
once been animated by a human soul. On the remonstrance 
of his parent, however, he renounced vegetarianism and “ lived 
as others lived ” again. At a later period we find him the 
leader of the Stoics at Rome. 

Seneca early made his mark as an orator. Hearing him 
plead eloquently on one occasion in the senate, Caligula, out 
of jealousy, threatened to have him executed, and was de- 
terred only by the consideration that Seneca had the con- 
sumption and was not likely to live for any length of time. 

But Seneca survived this imperial butcher, to become the 
instructor and moral guide of the youthful Nero. While 
Nero submitted to his counsels, Rome enjoyed a halcyon age, 
long remembered by her people as the Five Years. His in- 
fluence led to the adoption of many salutary measures ; it is 
thought to have been at his instigation that Nero despatched 
an expedition to explore the sources of the Nile — the first re- 
corded in history. Well would it have been for Rome, had 
Nero continued to follow the advice of Seneca. 

This, however, was not to be ; a sudden change took place 
in the disposition of the prince, when his mother was charged 
with conspiring against him. It was her life or his ; and 
Nero won. The taste of blood transformed him into a mon- 
ster, and he forthwith entered upon a reign of horrors that 


SENECA, THE MORALIST. 


395 


has no equal in history. Virtue was now the surest road to 
ruin. Falsely accused of complicity in a conspiracy, Seneca 
was sentenced to put an end to his own life (65 A.D.). With 
perfect calmness he received the royal mandate, and caused 
his veins to be severed ; but the blood flowing too slowly, he 
entered a vapor-bath and ended his sufferings by suffocation. 
His wife Paulina elected to die with him, and in the same 
manner ; but Nero had her veins ligatured, and thus added 
several years of misery to her life. To his friends, Seneca 
was permitted to leave no more valuable legacy than his vir- 
tuous example. 

Seneca was a great moral leader, the first of a class of phi- 
losophers who aimed at winning the people back to the virtue 
of primitive Rome. His teachings were in strange contrast 
to the age in which he lived ; they bear a striking resem- 
blance to those of the Gospel, with which he may have 
become acquainted through St. Paul. The fathers of the 
Church were loud in their praises of “ the divine pagan,” 
but there is no evidence that, as some have stated, Seneca 
was persuaded by the apostle to become a Christian. 

Our philosopher is described as simple in his tastes. 
Though the envied possessor of a princely fortune, he could 
consistently write in support of temperance on his table of 
gold. A cupful of water from the brook was sweeter to him 
than beakers of Italy’s choicest wines, and the fruits of the 
wild wood he preferred to the luxurious dishes fashion re- 
quired him to spread before the rich and great. His fault 
was weakness, which betrayed him into flattery, and perhaps 
made him an unwilling accessory to some of his master’s 
crimes. 

Seneca was the author, not only of philosophical treatises, 
but also of ten tragedies, and one hundred and twenty-four 
moral epistles. He even attempted a satire on the stupidity 
of the emperor Claudius, representing him as transformed 

R 


396 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


after death, not into a god, as the senate decreed, but into a 
pumpkin. Several other works from his pen are lost. 

The best of Seneca’s treatises are those on Anger, Provi- 
dence, and Consolation. His style, labored, antithetical, and 
full of repetitions, has an artificial glitter about it that im- 
presses the reader unfavorably. 

EXTRACTS FROM SENECA'S WRITINGS. 

ON ANGER. 

How idle are niauy of those things that make ns stark mad f A 
resty horse, the overturning of a glass, the falling of a key, the drag- 
ging of a chair, a jealousy, a misconstruction. How shall that man 
endure the extremities of hunger and thirst, that flies into a rage only 
for the putting of a little too much water in his wine ? WLat haste 
is there to lay a servant by the heels, or break a leg or an arm imme- 
diately for it? The answer of a servant, a wife, a tenant, puts, some 
people out of all patience, and yet they can quarrel with the govern- 
ment for not allowing them the same liberty in public which they 
themselves deny to their own families. If they say nothing, 'tis con- 
tumacy ; if they speak or laugh, 'tis insolence. Neither are our eyes 
less curious and fantastical than our ears. When we are abroad, we 
can bear well enough with foul ways, nasty streets, Doist)me ditches ; 
but a spot upon a dish at home, or an unswept hearth, absolutely 
distracts us. And what’s the reason, but that we are patient in the 
one place and peevish in the other? 

Nothing makes us more intemperate than luxury. When we are 
once weakened with our pleasures, everything grows intolerable. 
And we are angry as well with those things that cannot hurt us as 
with those that do. We tear a book because it is blotted ; and our 
clothes because they are not well made — things that neither deserve 
our auger nor feel it. The tailor perchance did his best, or had no 
intent to displease us. If so, first, why should we be angry at all? 
Secondly, why should we be angry with the thing for the man’s 
sake ? Nay, onr anger extends even to dogs, horses, and other beasts. 

Cyrus, in his design ux)on Babylon, found a river in his way that 
put a stop to his march. The current was strong, and carried away 
one of the lionses that belonged to his own chariot ; upon this he swore 
that, since it had obstructed his passage, it should never hinder that 
of another, and presently set his whole army to work on it, wiiich 
diverted it into a hundred and fourscore channels, and laid it dry. 
In this ignoble and unprofitable employment he lost his time and the 
soldiers their courage ; moreover, he gave his adversaries an oppor- 
tunity of providing themselves, while he was waging war w ith a 
river instead of an enemy.’’ 


EXTRACTS FROM SENECA. 


397 


ON A HAPPY LIFE. 

It is dangerous for a man too suddenly or too easily to believe 
himself. Wherefore let us examine, watch, observe, and inspect our 
own hearts; for we ourselves are our own greatest flatterers. We 
should every night call ourselves to account — ‘ What infirmity have 
I mastered to-day ? What passion opposed ? Wliat temptation re- 
sisted ? What virtue acquired V Our vices will abate of themselves, 
if they be brought every day to the shrift. O the blessed sleep that 
follows such a diary ! O the tranquillity, liberty, and greatness. of 
that mind that is a sx)y upon itself, and a private censor of its own 
manners ! It is my custom every night, so soon as the caudle is out, 
to run over all the words and actions of the past day ; and I let noth- 
ing escape me. What can be more reasonable than this daily review 
of a life that we cannot warrant for a moment?” — L’Estrange. 


MISCELLANEOUS SAYINGS. 

‘‘ Those whom God loves, he disciplines. 

We can never quarrel enough with our vices. 

The day of death is the birthday of eternity. 

There is no need to pray the sedile to admit you to the ear of an 
image, that so your petitions may be heard the better. God is near 
you; he is with you; a holy spirit resides within us, our constant 
guardian. 

Let us be liberal after the example of our great Creator, and give 
to others with the same consideration that he gives to us. 

How many are unworthy of the light ; yet the day dawns. 

The good-will of the benefactor is the fountain of all benefits. 

To obey God is liberty. 

Apply thyself to the true riches. It is shameful to depend for a 
happy life on silver and gold.” 

Lucan (39-65 A.D.), the nephew of Seneca, though born at 
Cordova, was brought up at Rome, and there became the fel- 
low-pupil and favorite companion of Nero. But the superior 
genius of the Spanish youth provoked the jealousy of his royal 
master, who had rather too high an opinion of his own attain- 
ments, and was nettled by the public verdict that Lucan, then 
only twenty-three years of age, was the greatest of living poets. 
At length the awarding of the prize to Lucan in a literary 
contest between them so enraged the emperor that he forbade 
his former friend to recite any more pieces. 


398 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Lucan’s indiscretion sealed his fate. Not content with li- 
bellous attacks upon Nero, he became implicated in a con- 
spiracy against the government, upon the detection of which 
he was condemned to death. Nero allowing him to choose 
the manner in which he should suffer, the poet had his veins 
opened in a hot bath. Becoming faint from loss of blood, he 
recited a passage from his own “ Pharsalia,” descriptive of the 
de<ith of a snake-bitten soldier : — 

“ So the warm blood at once from every part 
Ran purple poison down, and drained the fainting heart. 

Blood falls for tears, and o’er his mournful face 
The ruddy drops their tainted passage trace. 

Where’er the liquid juices hud a way, 

There streams of blood, there crimson rivers stray j 
His mouth and gushing nostrils pour a flood, 

And e’en the pores ooze out the trickling blood. 

In the red deluge all the parts lie drowned. 

And the whole body seems one bleeding wound” — 

and so he passed away. 

Lucan was interred at Rome in his own garden. An an- 
cient monument in the church of Santo Paulo contains an 
inscription to his memory, probably placed there by order of 
Nero, who seems after all to have rendered secret homage to 
his genius and virtue. The talents of his wife have been 
highly commended; and it is probable that she assisted him 
in composing his work. 

The epic “ Pharsalia ” is the only poem of Lucan’s that we 
now possess. Its subject is the civil war between Caesar and 
Pompey ; and it receives its name from the place at which 
the decisive battle between the rival commanders was fought. 
Though inferior to the ^neid, it certainly displays talent of a 
high order. Critics have differed in their estimate of Lucan. 
That he has faults, none will deny who are familiar with his 
tumid style and love of tinsel. On the other hand, energy, 
exuberant imagination, and a fervent love of liberty, are his 
peculiar excellences. The defects of the Pharsalia are excus- 


LUCAN. 


399 


able in a youth of twenty-six. Had the author lived to revise 
and finish the work, it might have equalled Virgil’s epic. 

Lucan is partial to the supernatural ; dreams, witches, and 
ghosts, enter freely into his machinery. In the sixth book of 
the Pharsalia, he makes Pompey’s son consult the witch Erich- 
tho on the eve of the battle. His picture of the weird woman 
is quoted here as one of the most imaginative passages in the 
whole range of classical poetry. Erichtho is the type of a 
class of impostors firmly believed in by the Romans of that 
day ; the powers with which the poet endows her are sim- 
ply those attributed to her by popular superstition. 

THE WITCH ERICHTHO. 

“ Whene’er the proud enchantress gives command, 
Eternal Motion stops her active hand ; 

No more heaven’s rapid circles journey on, 

But universal Nature stands foredone ; 

The lazy god of day forgets to rise, 

And everlasting night pollutes the skies. 

Jove wonders to behold her shake the pole. 

And, uuconsentiug, hears his thunders roll. 

Now, with a word she hides the sun’s bright face, 

And blots the wide ethereal azure space : 

Loosely, anon, she shakes her flowing hair. 

And straight the stormy lowering heavens are fair: 

At once she calls the golden light again ; 

The clouds fly swift away, and stops the drizzly rain. 

In stillest calms, she bids the waves run high ; 

And smooths the deep, tho’ Boreas shakes the sky : 

When winds are hushed, her potent breath prevails. 

Wafts on the bark, and fills the flagging sails. 

Streams have run back at murmurs of her tongue. 

And torrents from the rock suspended hung; 

No more the Nile his wonted seasons knows. 

And in a line the straight Maeander flows. 

The ponderous earth, by magic numbers struck, 

Down to her inmost centre deep has shook ; 

Then, rending with a yawn, at once made way, 

To join the upper and the nether day : 

While wondering eyes, the dreadful cleft between, 

Another starry firmament- have seen. 


400 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Each deadly kiud, hy nature formed to kill, 

Fears the dire hags, and executes their will : 

Lions to them their nobler rage submit. 

And fawning tigers crouch beneath their feet : 

For them the snake foregoes her wintry hold, 

And on the hoary frost untwines her fold ; 

The poisonous race they strike with stronger death, 
And blasted vipers die by human breath. 

But these, as arts too gentle and too good. 

Nor yet with death or guilt enough imbrued. 

With haughty scorn the tierce Erichtho viewed. • 

New mischief she, new monsters, durst explore ; 

And dealt in horrors never known before. 

From towns and hospitable roofs she flies. 

And every dwelling of mankind defies; 

Through unfrequented deserts lonely roams. 

Drives out the dead, and dwells within their tombs. 
Grateful to hell the living hag descends. 

And sits in black assemblies of the fiends. 

Dark matted elf-locks dangling on her brow, 

Filthy and foul, a loathsome burden grow: 

Ghastly, and frightful pale, her face is seen; 

Unknown to cheerful day and skies serene ; 

But, when the stars are veiled, when storms arise. 

And the blue forky flame at midnight flies. 

Then, forth from graves she takes her wicked way. 
And thwarts the glancing lightnings as they play: 
Where’er she breathes blue poisons round her spread, 
The withering grass avows her fatal tread. 

Oft in the grave the living has she laid. 

And bid reviving bodies leave the dead : 

Oft at the funeral pile she seeks her prey. 

And bears the smoking ashes warm away ; 

Snatches some burning bone, or flaming brand. 

And tears the torch from the sad father’s hand. 

Her teeth from gibbets gnaw the strangling noose. 
And from the cross dead murderers unloose : 

Her charms the use of sun-dried marrow find. 

And husky entrails withered in the wind. 

Where’er the battle bleeds, and slaughter lies. 
Thither, preventing birds and beasts, she hies ; 

Nor then content to seize the ready prey. 

From their fell jaws she tears their food away ; 

She marks the hungry wolf’s pernicious tooth. 

And joj^s to rend the morsel from his mouth : 


PLINY THE ELDER. 


401 


Nov ever yet remorse could stop her liand, 

When human gore her cursed rites demand. 

When blooming youths in early manhood die, 

She stands a terrible attendant by ; 

The downy growth from off their cheeks she tears, 
Or cuts left-handed some selected hairs. 

Oft, when in death her gasping kindred lay. 

Some pious office would she feign to pay ; 

And, while close hovering o’er the bed she hung. 

Bit the pale lips, and cropped the quivering tongue ; 
Tlien, in hoarse murmurs, ere the ghost could go. 
Muttered some message to the shades below.” 

Rowe. 


The Flavian Era is memorable for a few writers of note. 
Pliny the Elder, called also the Naturalist, was an intimate 
friend of the emperor Vespasian ; while the names of Martial, 
Statius, and Quintilian, are associated with the reign of Do- 
mitian, Vespasian’s son (81-96 A.D.). 

Pliny the Elder (23-79 A.D.) was born at Como in Cis- 
alpine Gaul, and there passed his boyhood. We find him 
afterward at Rome attending rhetorical lectures, and still 
later in his career serving as a soldier in Germany. Nero 
made him proconsul of Spain, and at the expiration of his 
term he returned to Rome to find his old friend Vespasian 
invested with the purple. 

Pliny had already become distinguished as the author of a 
treatise on “the Use of the Javelin,” a “History of the Ger- 
man Wars,” and eight books on “ Difficulties in the Latin 
Language.” He now devoted himself to the compilation of 
his “Natural History,” the only work we have left from his 
pen, which Cuvier pronounced “one of the most precious 
monuments that have come down to us from ancient times.” 

We might well wonder how', in the face of his onerous pub- 
lic duties, Pliny found time for literary pursuits so engrossing, 
did not his nephew, Pliny the Younger, describe to us his 
wonderful industry. His day’s work began at i or 2 A.M., 


402 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


even in winter; sometimes at midnight. Before sunrise he 
repaired to the palace to chat informally with Vespasian, who 
like him was accustomed to rob the night of a few hours ; 
after which he applied himself to business and study, devot- 
ing every spare moment to the accumulation of knowledge. 
“ No book so bad but that something good may be gleaned 
from it,” was his motto. To be without a volume and a port- 
able writing-desk was a crime in Pliny’s eyes. A slave con- 
stantly attended him, to take down his words in short-hand j 
during his meals he employed a reader, and even in his 
bath he dictated or listened. “I remember his chiding 
me,” said his nephew, “for taking a walk, saying ‘You might 
have saved three hours.’ Compared with him, I am an idle 
vagabond.” 

Pliny the Elder was a martyr to science. In August, 79 
A.D., while in command of the Mediterranean squadron, to 
which he had been appointed by Vespasian, word was brought 
him that Vesuvius was in a state of eruption. Desiring to in- 
vestigate the phenomenon, he steered straight for the blazing 
mountain, pushed on through the rain of hot ashes and pum- 
ice-stones, and when advised by the pilot to turn back fear- 
lessly replied, “ Fortune favors the brave !” He effected a 
landing, but only to be suffocated by the sulphurous vapors 
that proved fatal to so many of the inhabitants of Hercula- 
neum and Pompeii. 

Pliny was the master-compiler of antiquity; and he was 
only a compiler, as he himself acknowledged. His Natural 
History, in thirty-seven books, is a storehouse of quaint lore, 
according to its author a condensation of two thousand vol- 
umes, relating to astronomy, geography, zoology, botany, min- 
eralogy, diseases and their remedies, etc. A penchant for the 
marvellous, which shows him to have been a man of infinite 
credulity, was a weakness of Pliny ; yet his stories were im- 
plicitly trusted in the Dark Ages, and many of them re- 


EXTRACTS FROM PLINY THE ELDER. 


403 


appeared in the tales of the Arabian Nights. A few of his 
curious statements are subjoined : — 

ECCENTRICITIES OF NATURE. 

“ Some individuals are born with certain parts of the body en- 
dowed with properties of a marvellous nature. Such was the case 
with King Pyrrhus, the great toe of whose right foot cured diseases 
of the spleen merely by toucbiug the patient. We are also informed 
that this toe could not be reduced to ashes together with the other 
portions of the body. 

India and Ethiopia abound in wonders. According to Megasthe- 
nes, on a mountain called Nulo there dwells a race of men who have 
their feet turned backward, with eight toes on each foot. On many 
of the mountains, again, there is a tribe of men who have the heads 
of dogs ; instead of speaking they bark, and, furnished with claws, 
they live by hunting and catching birds. According to Ctesias, the 
number of this people is more than 120,000. This author speaks also 
of another race of men called Single-legs, who have only one limb, 
but are able to leap with surprising agility. The same people are 
also called Foot-shadowers, because they are in the habit of lying on 
their backs, and protecting themselves from the sun by the shade of 
their feet. 

At the very extremity of India, near the source of the river Ganges, 
there is the nation of Monthless people ; their bodies are rough and 
overgrown with hair, and they cover themselves with a down plucked 
from the leaves of trees. These people subsist only by breathing and 
by the odors which they inhale through the nostrils. They support 
themselves upon neither meat nor drink ; when they go upon a long 
journey, they carry with them only odoriferous roots and flowers, 
and wild apples, that they may not be without something to smell 
at. But an odor which is a little more powerful than usual easily 
destroys them.” 


HYDROPHOBIA. 

“Canine madness is fatal to man during the heat of the Dog-star, 
and proves so in consequence of those who are bitten having a dead- 
ly horror of water. For this reason, during the thirty days that the 
star exerts its influence, we try to prevent the disease in dogsj or, 
if they are attacked by it, give them hellebore. 

We have a single remedy against the bite, which has been but 
lately discovered — the root of the wild rose, which is called dog- 
rose. Columella informs us that if, on the fortieth day after the 
birth of a pup, the last bone of the tail is bitten off, the sinew will 
follow with it ; after which the tail will not grow, and the dog will 
never become rabid.” 

K 2 


404 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


REMEDIES FOE TOOTHACHE, ETC. 

“Toothache is alleviated by scarifying the gums with bones of 
the sea-dragon, or by rubbing the teeth once a year with the brains 
of a dog-fish boiled in oil. It is a very good plan, too, for the cure 
of toothache, to lance tlie gums with the sting of the ray. This 
sting is pounded and applied to the teeth with w'hite hellebore, hav- 
ing the effect of extracting them w ithout the slightest difficulty. A 
decoction is made of a single frog boiled in two-thirds of a pint of 
vinegar, and the teeth are rinsed with it. It is generally thought 
that this recipe applies more particularly to the double teeth, and 
that the vinegar prepared as above mentioned is remarkably useful 
for strengthening them when loose. Ashes, also, of burnt crabs make 
an excellent dentifrice. 

There is a small frog which ascends trees, and croaks aloud there; 
if a person suffering from cough spits into its mouth and then lets it 
go, he will experience a cure. For cough attended with spitting of 
blood, it is recommended to beat up the raw flesh of a snail, and to 
drink it in hot water.” — Riley. 

Martial (43-117 A.D.). — The chief poet of Domitian’s 
reign was Martial, master of the Latin epigram. Born in 
Spain, Martial came to Rome in Nero’s time and began the 
study of law. But finding it uncongenial, he adopted litera- 
ture as a profession, and rose to distinction under Titus and 
Domitian, his sordid flattery of the latter securing him wealth 
and honors. 

The epigrams of Martial are pithy, pointed with satire, and 
not without elegance ; but the pleasure of reading them is 
constantly interrupted by coarse allusions and even down- 
right obscenity. Hence it has been justly said that Martial 
taught vice while. reproving it. His poems, however, contain 
valuable pictures of Roman manners. 

THE BEAU. 

“ They tell me, Cotilus, that youVe a bean : 

What this is, Cotilus, I wish to kuow\ 

‘ A beau is one who, with the nicest care. 

In parted locks divides his curling hair ; 

One who with balm and cinnamon smells sweet. 

Whose humming lips some Spanish air repeat ; 


MARTIAL. — STATIUS. 


405 


Whose uaked arms are smoothed with pumice-stone, ' 
And tossed about with graces all his own. 

A beau^is one who takes his constant seat, 

From morn to evening, wliere the ladies meet ; 

And ever, on some sofa hovering near, 

Whispers soft nothings in some fair one’s ear ; 

Who scribbles thousand billets-doux a day ; 

Still reads and scribbles, reads and sends away. 

A beau is one who shrinks, if nearly pressed 
By the coarse garment of a neighbor guest ; 

Who knows who flirts with whom, and still is found 
At each good table in successive round. 

A beau is one — none better knows than he 
A race-horse and his noble pedigree.’ — 

Indeed ? Why, Cotilus, if this be so. 

What teasing trifling thing is called a beau !” 


With but one eye Philoenis weeps. How done 
If you inquire, know she hath got but one.” 

Statius (61-96 A.D.), a contemporary and rival of Martial, 
was the author of the epic “ Theba'is,” based on the strife of 
the sons of CEdipus (see p. 200). Despite the fact that the 
poet gave a year’s work to each of its twelve books, this epic 
has little to recommend it. 

Statius began another poem on the life of Achilles, which 
he did not live to finish. His forte lay not in the line of epics, 
but in the improvising of short pointed pieces, thirty-two of 
which are preserved in the collection called “ Silvae.” Juve- 
nal bears witness to his popularity. 

Statius was patronized by the emperor Domitian, but is said 
to have been stabbed by the latter with a stylus, in a fit of 
anger. The following tender lines are from a poem addressed 
to his wife Claudia. 

STATIUS TO HIS WIFE. 

^‘Whither could ocean’s waves my bark convey. 

Nor thou be fond companion of my w’ay ? 

Yes — did I seek to fix my mansion drear 
Where polar ice congeals the inclement year; 


40G 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Where the seas darken round far Thule’s isle, 

Or unapproached recedes the head of Nile ; 

Thy voice would cheer me on. May that kind Power, 

Who joined our hands when in thy beauty’s flower. 

Still, when the blooming years of life decline, 

Prolong the blessing, and preserve thee mine ! 

To thee, whose charms gave first the enamoring wound. 

And my wild youth in marriage fetters hound ; 

To thee submissive, I received the rein. 

Nor sigh for change, but hug the pleasing chain. 

And thou hast listened, with entranced desire. 

The first rude sounds that would my lips inspire ; 

Thy watchful ear would snatch, with keen delight. 

My verse, low-murmured through the live-long night. 

To only thee niy lengthened toils were known. 

And with thy years has my Thehaid grown. 

I saw thee, what thou art, when late I stood 
On the dark verge of the Lethsean flood ; 

When glazed in death, I closed my quivering eyes. 

Relenting Fate restored me to thy sighs ; 

Thou wert alone the cause, the Power above 
Feared thy despair and melted to thy love.” — Elton. 

Sulpicia. — We must not pass over the Roman lyric poetess 
Sulpicia, the Sappho of Domitian’s age — a noble lady of ex- 
ceptional genius, who claims that she 

First taught the Roman dames to vie 
With Grsecia’s nymphs of lyric minstrelsy.” 

A short satire on Domitian’s expulsion of the Greek philos- 
ophers from Italy, bearing the name of Sulpicia, still survives. 
It is valuable, as the only fragment we have from a Roman 
poetess. From it we extract the following apt simile : — 

“It fares with Romans as with wasps, whose home 
Is hung where Juno’s temple rears its dome ; 

A bristling crowd, they wave their flickering wings. 

Their yellow bodies barbed with quivering stings. 

But not like wasps, thus tremblingly alive, 

The bee, secure returning, haunts her hive ; 

Forgetful of the comb, by sloth oppressed. 

The swarm, the queen, die slow in pampered rest : 

And this the sons of Romulus have found. 

Sunk in the lap of peace, in long perdition drowned.” 


QUINTILIAN. 


407 


Quintilian (35-95 A.D.), of Spanish parentage but Roman 
education, for many years taught eloquence successfully in the 
capital, numbering among his pupils the nephews of Domitian. 
He had the good fortune to enjoy the favor of the emperor, 
and filled a professorship to which was attached an annual 
salary of about $4,000. 

Quintilian is honored as the author of the Institutes of 
Oratory,” an exhaustive rhetorical treatise in twelve books, 
devoted to the education of the orator from infancy. “ No 
other author,” it has been said, “ever adorned a scientific 
treatise with so many happy metaphors.” No other author, 
it may be added, ever succeeded better in investing a dry 
subject with general interest. The “ Institutes ” may be read 
with profit by all who desire to improve their style. 

Quintilian insists on virtue as a requisite of the perfect 
orator ; yet with strange inconsistency excuses a falsehood 
if told in a good cause, and justifies the doing of evil that 
good may come. We present a few paragraphs on 

THE EMBELLISHMENT OF STYLE. 

“ By polish and embellishment of style the orator recommends 
himself to his auditors in his j)roper character; in his other efforts 
he courts the approbation of the learned, in this the applause of the 
multitude. Cicero, in pleading the cause of Cornelius, fought with 
arms that were not only stout, but dazzling ; nor would he, merely 
by instructing the judge, or by speaking to the purpose in pure Latin 
and with perspicuity, have caused the Roman people to testify their 
admiration of him not only by acclamations, but even by tumults of 
applause. It was the sublimity, magnificence, splendor, and dignity 
of his eloquence, that drew forth that thunder of approbation. 

This grace of style may contribute in no small degree to the suc- 
cess of a cause; for those who listen with pleasure are both more 
attentive and more ready to believe ; they are very frequently cap- 
tivated with pleasure, and sometimes hurried away in admiration. 
Thus the glitter of a sword strikes something of terror into the eyes ; 
and thunderstorms themselves would not alarm us so much as they 
do, if it were their force only, and not also their flame, that was 
dreaded. Cicero, accordingly, in one of his letters to Brutus, makes 
with good reason the following remark: ‘That eloquence which ex- 


408 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


(iites no adminition, I account as nothing.’ Aristotle, also, thinks 
that to excite admiration should he oue of our greatest objects. 

But let the embellishment of our style be manly, noble, and chaste ; 
let it not affect effeminate delicacy, or a complexion counterfeited by 
paint, but let it glow with genuine health and vigor. Should I think 
a piece of laud better cultivated, in which the owner should show me 
lil ies, anemouies, and violets, and fountains playing, than oue in which 
there is a plentiful harvest, or vines laden with grapes ? Should I 
prefer barren plane-trees, or clipped myrtles, to elms embraced with 
vines, and fruitful olive-trees? The rich may have such unproduc- 
tive gratifications ; but what would they be, if they had nothing 
else? 

Whatever may be attractive in conception, elegant in expression, 
pleasing in figures, rich in metaphor, or polished in composition, the 
orator, like a dealer, as it were, in eloquence, will lay before his audi- 
ence for them to inspect, aud almost to handle; for his success en- 
tirely concerns his reputation, and not his cause. But when a serious 
affair is in question, and there is a contest in real earnest, anxiety for 
mere applause should be an orator’s last concern. Indeed, no speak- 
er, where important interests are involved, should be very solicitous 
about his words.” — Watson. 

Among the lesser lights of the first Christian century were 
Quintus Curtius, who compiled a “ History of Alexander 
the Great;” Columella, a writer on agriculture; Pomponius 
Mela, the first Latin geographer ; Probus, the grammarian ; 
Valerius Flaccus, who wrote the epic “ Argonautica,” in 
imitation of Apollonius Rhodius ; and SiLius Italicus, au- 
thor of a third-rate epic on the Punic Wars. 

AGE OF TRAJAN AND THE ANTONINES. 

Juvenal (40-125 A.D.), the single poet of this age, ranks 
with Rome’s great writers. The accounts of his life are frag- 
mentary and obscure. A native of Aqui'num in Latium, he 
came to Rome, and was apparently a student of rhetoric, per- 
haps an advocate. A chance lampoon on an actor revealed 
to him his satirical talent, and forthwith he applied himself to 
that branch of poetry in which he became so eminent. Too 
modest at first to read his satires even before his friends, Ju- 
venal postponed publishing them until his sixtieth year, when 
they took Rome by storm. Sixteen of them survive. 


JUVENAL. 


409 


His fierce diatribes not unnaturally gave offence in high 
places ; and at length the emperor Ha'di ian* quietly sent 
their author off to Egypt, to command a Roman cohort sta- 
tioned there — a disgrace which brought the old satirist in 
sorrow to the grave. 

Juvenal probed Roman society to its very depths, laying 
bare vices of the blackest dye. In his day, the degenerate 
masters of the world even out-sodomed Sodom in depravity. 
Nobles and emperors openly perpetrated the vilest crimes. 
High-born ladies, in male attire, entered the arena to fight like 
gladiators ; revelled in reckless extravagance ; plunged into 
immoralities that call up a blush in the very recital, and even 
added the arts of the poisoner to their accomplishments. Thus 
the poet exclaims against these fashionable murderesses : — 

“ They see upon the stage the Grecian wife 
Redeeming with her own her husband’s life ; 

Yet, in her place, would willingly deprive 
Their lords of breath, to keep their dogs alive! 

Abroad, at home, the Belides t you meet. 

And Clytemuestras swarm in every street ; 

But here the difference lies — those bungliug wives 
With a blunt axe hacked out their husbands’ lives; 

While now the deed is done with dexterous art. 

And a drugged bowl performs the axe’s part.” 

In the blaze of his satire Juvenal brought out the represent- 


* Hadrian was for the most part a patron of literary men, and himself spoke 
and wrote with eloquence. Pope’s paraphrase has made familiar his verse ad- 
dressed to his soul : — 

“Ah! fleeting spirit ! wandering fire, 

That long hast warmed my tender breast, 

Must thou no more this frame inspire, 

No more a pleasing, cheerful guest V 
Whither, ah ! whither art thou flying ? 

To what dark undiscovered shore ? 

Thou seem’st all trembling, shivering, dying, 

And wit and humor are no more.” 

f The fifty daughters of Danaus, who stabbed their husbands on the marriage- 
night. 


410 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


alive characters of his time. Parasites, hypocrites, and pan- 
ders, upstarts, legacy -hunters, and gamblers, ballet-dancers 
and fortune-tellers, gluttons and sots, — defile before us in his 
pages till we turn with nausea from the revolting panorama. 
Well might the poet sigh : — 

“ Oh ! happy were our sires, estranged from crimes ; 

And happy, happy were the good old times, 

Which saw beneath their kings’, their tribunes’ reign, 

One cell the nation’s criminals contain !” 

Juvenal’s vividness of description and minuteness of detail 
show him to have been personally familiar with the vices he 
lashed ; that he kept himself unspotted we can neither assert 
nor deny. His satires are full of moral precepts and virtuous 
sentiments; the Tenth, perhaps the gem of the collection, has 
lent more thoughts and expressions to modern times than any 
other Latin poem of equal length. It closes with a beautiful 
petition : — 

JUVENAL’S PRAYER. 

“ O Thou who kiiow’st the wants of human kind. 
Vouchsafe me health of body, health of mind ; 

A soul prepared to meet the frowns of fate. 

And look undaunted on a future state ; 

That reckons death a blessing, yet can bear 
Existence nobly, with its weight of care ; 

That anger and desire alike restrains, 

And counts Alcides’ toils, and cruel pains, 

Superior far to banquets, wanton nights. 

And all the Assyrian monarch’s soft delights! 

Here bound, at length, thy wishes. I but teach 
What blessings man, by his own powers, may reach. 

The path to peace is virtue. We should see. 

If wise, O Fortune, naught divine in thee: 

But we have deified a name alone. 

And fixed in heaven thy visionary throne!” 


Brevity, intensity, and vigor, are conspicuous elements in 
our author’s style. He always used “ the best words in the 
right places.” Said Dryden, his only peer in satiric poetry, 
“Juvenal gives me as much pleasure as I can bear.” We 


EXTKACT FKOM JUVENAL. 


411 


extract from the Tenth Satire one of his most graphic pas- 
sages : — 

THE INSTABILITY OF FOKTUNE. 

[Illustrated by the fall of Sejanus.] 

“ Some, Power hurls headlong from her envied height ; 
Some, the broad tablet, flashing on the sight. 

With titles, names: the statues, tumbled down. 

Are dragged by hooting thousands through the town ; 

The brazen cars torn rudely from the yoke, 

And, with the blameless steeds, to shivers broke — 

Then roar the flames ! The sooty artist blows. 

And all Sejanus* in the furnace glows; 

Sejanus, once so honored, so adored. 

And only second to the world’s great lord, 

Runs glittering from the mould, in cups and cans, 

Basins and ewers, plates, pitchers, pots, and pans. 

‘ Crown all your doors with bay, triumphant bay! 

Sacred to Jove, the milk-white victim slay ; 

For lo ! where great Sejanus by the throng, 

A joyful spectacle ! is dragged along. 

What lips ! what cheeks ! ha, traitor! for my part, 

I never loved the fellow — in my heart.’ 

‘ But tell me, why was he adjudged to bleed ? 

And who discovered, and who proved the deed?’ 

‘ Proved I — a huge wordy letter came to-day 
From CaprejE.’ Good ! what think the people ? They — 

They follow fortune, as of old, and hate, 

With their whole souls, the victim of the state. 

Yet would the herd, thus zealous, thus on tire. 

Had Nursiat met the Tuscan’s fond desire. 

And crushed the unwary prince, have all combined. 

And hailed Sejanus master of mankind ! 

Lured by the splendor of his happier hour, 

W^ouldst thou possess Sejanus’ wealth and power; 

See crowds of suppliants at thy levee wait. 

Give this to sway the army, that the state ; 

And keep a prince in ward, retired to reign 
O’er Capreaj’s crags, with his Chaldean train ? 

Yes, yes, thou wouldst (for I can read thy breast) 

Enjoy that favor which he once possessed. 


♦ The wicked minister of the emperor Tiberius, who encouraged his master in 
the most detestable vices. At length, having engaged in a conspiracy with the 
view of usurping the empire, he was executed by Tiberius. The fate of the 
bronze statues raised in his honor is related by the poet, 
f The Etruscan goddess of fortune. 


412 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


Assume all offices, grasp all commands, 

The Imperial Horse, and the PrjEtoriau Bauds. 

’Tis Nature, this ; e’eu those who want the will, 

Pant for the dreadful privilege to kill : 

Yet what delight can rank and power bestow, 

Since every joy is balanced by its woe!” — Gifford. 

Tacitus (54-118 A.D.). — Foremost among the prose writers 
of this later period was Gains Cornelius Tacitus, by some con- 
sidered the greatest of Roman historians. Of his early life 
we know nothing, though as a youth he seems to have mas- 
tered those arts which afterward made him a successful ora- 
tor. In the reign of Vespasian he took to wife the daughter 
of Julius Agricola, the Roman governor of Britain, and began 
a public career which culminated under Nerva (97 A.D.) in 
the consulship. After this he probably confined his attention 
to literature, busying himself with the compilation of historical 
works until death put an end to his labors. 

The first of these in the order of time was the “ Agricola,” 
an admirable biography of the author’s father-in-law, “the 
hero of a hundred fights, the conqueror of those warlike isl- 
anders whom the mighty Julius left to their original freedom, 
and whom Claudius and his captains imperfectly subdued.” 
It is particularly valuable for the light it casts on the history 
of Britain, and the influence of Roman institutions. 

“Agricola,” said Tacitus, “gave private encouragement 
and public aid to the building of temples, courts of justice, 
and dwelling-houses, praising the energetic and reproving the 
indolent. Thus an honorable rivalry took the place of com- 
pulsion. He likewise provided a liberal education for the 
sons of the chiefs, and showed such a preference for the nat- 
ural powers of the Britons over the industry of the Gauls that 
they who lately disdained the tongue of Rome now coveted 
its eloquence. Hence, too, a liking sprung up for our style 
of dress, and the toga became fashionable. Step by step they 
were led to things which dispose to vice — the lounge, the 


TACITUS. 


413 


bath, the elegant banquet. All this, in their ignorance, they 
called civilization.” 

The “ Agricola ” was followed by “ the Germania,” a trea- 
tise on the situation, customs, and tribes of Germany, in whose 
freedom-loving warriors Tacitus saw an enemy to be feared. 
What more caustic satires than his telling contrasts of their 
simple habits with Roman luxury, their stern morality with 
Roman profligacy.? The Germania may be regarded as a 
warning from a patriotic historian to his vice-ridden, enervated 
countrymen — a warning which they would have done well to 
regard. Particularly pleasing are its picturesque sketches of 
German life, written in concise, vigorous language. 

The remaining works of Tacitus are his “Histories,” “An- 
nals,” and a Dialogue on “the Decline of Eloquence.” The 
Histories covered the reigns of the Roman emperors from 
Galba to Domitian inclusive (69-96 A.D.) ; about one-third 
of the work is preserved. The genius of Tacitus did ample 
justice to the tremendous issues of this eventful period, de- 
scribed by him as follows : — 

“I am entering on the history of a period rich iu disasters, fright- 
ful in its wars, torn by civil strife, and even in peace full of horrors. 
Four emperors perished by the sword. There were three civil wars : 
there were more with foreign enemies : there were often wars that 
liad both characters at once. Now, too, Italy was prostrated by dis- 
asters, either entirely novel or that recurred only after a long suc- 
cession of ages. Cities in Campania’s richest plains were swallowed 
up and overwhelmed ; Rome was wasted by conflagrations, its old- 
est temples were consumed, and the Capitol itself was fired by the 
hands of citizens. Never, surely, did more terrible calamities of the 
Roman people, or evidence more conclusive, prove that the gods take 
no thought for our happiness, but only for our punishment.” 

In the “Annals” (sixteen books), which traced the history 
of the emperors from the death of Augustus up to the point 
at which the Histories had opened, the voice of the indignant 
satirist is everywhere heard. Portions of this work, which 
were published about 115 A.D., are lost. We extract the 
historian’s vivid description of the burning of Rome. 


414 


llOMAN LITEKATURE. 


THE BURNING OF ROME. 

‘‘ Tliere followed a dreadful disaster, whether fortuitously or hy 
the wicked contrivance of the prince is not determined, for both 
are asserted by historians. But of all the calamities which ever be- 
fell this city from the rage of fire, this was the most terrible. It 
broke out in that part of the Circus which is contiguous to mounts 
Palatine and Coelius, where, by reason of shops in which were kept 
such goods as minister aliment to fire, the moment it commenced it 
acquired strength, and being accelerated by the wind, it spread at 
once through the whole extent of the Circus. For neither were the 
houses secured by enclosures, nor the temples environed with walls, 
nor was there any other obstacle to intercept its progress ; but the 
flame, spreading every way impetuously, invaded first the lower re- 
gions of the city, then mounted to the higher; then again ravaging 
the lower, it baffled every effort to extinguish it, by the rapidity of its 
destructive course, and from the liability of the city to conflagratiou 
in consequence of the narrow and intricate alleys, and the irregu- 
larity of the streets in ancient Rome. 

Add to this the wailings of terrified women, the infirm condition 
of the aged, and the helplessness of childhood ; such as strove to 
provide for themselves, and those who labored to assist others ; 
these dragging the feeble, those waiting for them; some hurrying, 
others lingering ; altogether created a scene of universal confusion 
and embarrassment. While they looked back upon the danger in 
their rear, they often found themselves beset before, and on their 
sides ; or if they had escaped into the quarters adjoining, these too 
were already seized by the devouring flames; even the parts which 
they believed to be remote and exempt, were found to be in the 
same distress. 

At last, not knowing what to shun or where to seek sanctuary, 
they crowded the streets, and lay along in the open fields. Some, 
from the loss of their whole substance, even the means of their daily 
sustenance, others, from affection for their relatives whom they had 
not been able to snatch from the flames, suffered themselves to per- 
ish in them, though they had opportunity to escape. Neither dared 
any man offer to check the fire : so repeated were the menaces of 
many who forbade to extinguish it ; and because others openly threw 
fire-brands, with loud declarations ‘ that they had one who author- 
ized them ;’ whether they did it that they might plunder with less 
restraint, or in consequence of orders given. 

Nero, who was at that juncture sojourning at Antium, did not re- 
turn to the city till the fire approached that quarter of his house 
which connected the palace with the gardens of Maecenas ; nor could 
it, however, be prevented from devouring the house, and i^alace, and 
everything around. But for the relief of the people thus destitute 
and driven from their dwellings, he opened the field of Mars, and 


EXTRACT FROM TACITUS. 


415 


even liis own gardens. He likewise reared temporary houses for 
the reception of the forlorn multitude ; from Ostia and the neigh- 
boring cities were brought household necessaries, and the i)rice of 
grain was reduced to three sesterces (about Hi cts.) the measure. 
All which i^roceedings, though of a popular character, were thrown 
away, because a rumor had become universally current, that at the 
very time when the city was in flames Nero, going on the stage of 
his private theatre, sung ‘The Destruction of Troy,’ assimilating 
the present disaster to that catastrophe of ancient times. 

At length, on the sixth day, the conflagration was stayed by pull- 
ing down an immense quantity of buildings, so that an open space 
and, as it were, void air, might check the raging element by break- 
ing the continuity. . . . But not all the bounties that the prince 
could bestow, nor all the atonements which could be i)reseuted to 
the gods, availed to relieve Nero from the infamy of being believed 
to have ordered the fire. Hence, to suppress the rumor, he falsely 
charged with the guilt and punished with the most exquisite tort- 
ures, the persons commonly called Christians, who were hated for 
their enormities.* Christus, the founder of that sect, was put to 
death as a criminal by Pontius Pilate, procurator of Judea, in the 
reign of Tiberius; but the pernicious superstition, repressed for a 
time, broke out again, not only through Judea, where the mischief 
originated, but through the city of Rome also, whither all things 
horrible and disgraceful flow from all quarters, as to a common re- 
ceptacle, and where they are encouraged. 

Accordingly, first those were seized who confessed they were 
Christians; next, on their information, avast multitude were con- 
victed, not so much on a charge of burning the city as of hating the 
human race. And in their deaths they were also made the subjects 
of sport, for they were covered with the hides of wild beasts and 
worried to death by dogs, or nailed to crosses, or set fire to, and when 
day declined burned to serve for nocturnal lights.! Nero offered his 
own gardens for that spectacle, and exhibited a Circensian game, in- 
discriminately mingling with the common people in the habit of a 
charioteer, or else standing in his chariot. Whence a feeling of com- 
passion arose toward the sufferers, though guilty and deserving to 
be made examples of by capital punishment, because they seemed 
not to be cut off for the public good, but victims to the ferocity of 
one man.” 

Suetonius, a contemporary of Tacitus, appears to have been 
born in the reign of Vespasian. His literary labors began in 
Trajan’s time ; and under Hadrian he occupied the honorable 


* Tacitus shared the unjust prejudice current among the Romans, 
f This was the first of the ten persecutions of the Christians. 


416 


. ROMAN LITERATURE. 


position of private secretary, which, however, he lost in con- 
sequence of disrespect to the empress. 

The best- known of his works, and the only one that has 
been preserved entire, is his “Lives of the Tw'elve Cassars,” 
full, interesting, and trustworthy in its information, clear and 
vigorous in style. The “ Caesars ” of Suetonius has always 
been a standard. The Romans dwelt on his stories with 
gusto; but in such frightful colors did he paint the deeds 
of Caligula that the tyrant Com'modus made death by wild 
beasts the penalty for reading his life of that emperor. After 
the invention of printing, editions of Suetonius multiplied 
rapidly. 

EXTRACTS FROM SUETONIUS. 

SUPERSTITION OF AUGUSTUS. 

“ Some signs and omens he regarded as infallible. If in the morn- 
ing bis shoe was put on wrong, the left instead of the right, that 
boded some disaster. If when he commenced a long journey, by sea 
or laud, there happened to fall a mizzling rain, he held it to be a 
good sign of a speedy and happy return. He was much affected like- 
wise Avith anything out of the common course of nature. A palm- 
tree which chanced to grow up between some stones in the court of 
his house, he transplanted into a court where the images of the house- 
hold gods were placed, and took all possible care to make it thrive. 
He also observed certain days ; as never to go from home the day 
after the market-days, nor to begin any serious business upon the 
nones.” 


CHARACTER OF CALIGULA. 

“ Caligula evinced the savage barbarity of his temper by the fol- 
lowing indications. When flesh was only to be had at a high price 
for feeding his wild beasts, he ordered that criminals should bo 
given them to be devoured. After disfiguring many persons of hon- 
orable rank, by branding them in the face with hot irons, he con- 
demned them to tbe mines, to work in repairing the highways or 
to fight with wild beasts; or, tying them by the neckband iieels 
would shut them up in cages, or saw them asunder. ’ 

Nor Avere these seA^erities inflicted merely for crimes of great enor- 
mity, but for making remarks on his public games, or for not having 
sworn by the Genius of the emperor. He compelled parents to be 
present at the execution of their sons ; and to one Avho excused him- 


EXTKACTS FROM SUETONIUS. 


417 


self on account of indisposition, he sent his own litter, lie burned 
alive the writer of a farce, for some witty verse which had a double 
meaning. A Roman knight, who had been exposed to the wild 
beasts, crying out that he was innocent, Caligula called him back, 
and having had his tongue cut out, remanded him to the arena. 

Even in the midst of his diversions, while gaming or feasting, 
this savage ferocity never forsook him. Persons were often put to 
the torture in his presenee, while he was dining or carousing. At 
Puteoli, at the dedication of the bridge, he invited a number of peo- 
ple to come to him from the shore, and then suddenly threw them 
headlong into the sea; thrusting down with poles and oars those 
w^ho, to save themselves, had got hold of the rudders of the ships. 
As often as he met with handsome men, who had fine beads of hair, 
he would order the back of their heads to be shaved, to make them 
look ridiculous. At a sumptuous entertainment, he fell suddenly 
into a violent fit of laughter, and upon the consuls’, who reclined 
next to him, resi)ectfnlly asking him the occasion, ‘Nothing,’ replied 
he, ‘ but that ui)ou a single nod of mine, you might both have your 
throats cut.’ 

In profuse expenditure he surpassed all the prodigals that ever 
lived; inventing a new kind of bath, #v ashing in precious unguents, 
both warm and cold, drinking pearls of immense value dissolved in 
vinegar, and serving up for his guests loaves and other victuals mod- 
elled in gold. He built two ships with ten banks of oars, the sterns 
of which blazed with jewels while the sails were of various colors. 
They were fitted up with baths, galleries, and saloons, and supplied 
witli a great variety of vines and fruit-trees. In these he would sail 
in the daytime along the coast of Campania, feasting amidst dancing 
and concerts of music.” 


STUPIDITY OF CLAUDIUS. 

“Among other things, people wondered at the indifference and 
absent-mindedness of Claudius. Placing himself at table a little 
after Messalina’s death, he inquired, ‘Why does not the empress 
come V Many of those he had condemned to death, he ordered the 
day after to be invited to his table, and to game with him, and sent 
to reprimand them as sluggish fellows for not making greater haste. 
The following expression he had in his mouth at all hours, ‘What! 
do jmu take me for a fool V 

A man engaged in litigation before his tribunal drew Claudius 
aside and told him, ‘ I dreamt I saw you murdered ;’ and shortly af- 
terward, when the defendant came to deliver his xilea to the emperor, 
the plaintiff, pretending to have discovered the murderer, pointed to 
him as the man he had seen in his dream : whereupon, as if he had 
been taken in the act, he was hurried away to execution.” — D r. 
Thomson. 


418 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


Pliny the Younger (62-113 A.D.), nephew and adopted son 
of the naturalist, learned his early lessons from Quintilian and 
other celebrated rhetoricians. After figuring for a time as a 
successful advocate, he was elevated to the consulship, and in 
Trajan’s reign, having served his second term as consul, re- 
ceived the appointment of governor of Bithynia. 

Pliny took a prominent stand as the champion of the 
wronged, and delighted in compelling dishonest governors to 
disgorge their stolen spoils. The eloquent speeches identified 
with his name have perished, with the exception of a single 
specimen, a panegyric on Trajan. It is as a letter-writer that 
Pliny is entitled to a place among the worthies of Latin liter- 
ature. His epistles to his friends and the emperor (in ten 
9 books) are among the most pleasing relics of antiquity, af- 
fording, as they do, many instructive glimpses of contemporary 
society. They are written with life and polish, and show their 
author to have been “ the perfect type of a pagan gentleman.” 

While governor of Bithynia, Pliny corresponded frequently 
with Trajan on official business. We give below one of his 
letters in relation to the Christians, with Trajan’s reply. 


PLINY’S LETTER ON THE CHRISTIANS. 

“ I bad never attended at the trial of a Christian ; hence I knew 
not what were the usual questions asked them, or what the punish- 
ments inflicted. I doubted, also, whether to make a distinction of 
ages, or to treat young and old alike ; whether to allow time for re- 
cantation, or to refuse all pardon whatever to one who had been a 
Christian ; whether, finally, to make the name penal, though no 
crime should be proved, or to reserve the penalty for the combina- 
tion of both. Meanwhile, when any were reported to me as Chris- 
tians, I followed this plan. I asked them whether they were Chris- 
tians. If they said yes, I repeated the question twice, adding threats 
of punishment; if they persisted, I ordered punishment to be inflict- 
ed. For I felt sure that whatever it was they confessed, their in- 
flexible obstinacy well deserved to be chastised. There were evei; 
some Roman citizens who showed this strange persistence; those I 
determined to send to Rome. 

As often happens in cases of interference, charges were now lodged 


EXTRACT FROM PLINY. 


419 


more generally than before, and several forms of guilt came before 
me. An anonymous letter was sent, coutaiuing the names of many 
persons, who, however, denied that they were or had been ChriS' 
tiaus. As they invoked the gods and worshipped with wine and 
frankincense before your image, at the same time cursing Christ, I 
released them the more readily, as those who are really Christians 
cannot be got to do any of these things. Others, who were named 
to me, admitted that they were Christians, but immediately after- 
ward denied it ; some said they had been so three years ago, others 
at still more distant dates, one or two as long ago as twenty years. 
All these worshipped your image and those of the gods, and abjured 
Christ. But they declared that all their guilt or error had amount- 
ed to was this : they met on certain mornings before daybreak, and 
sung one after another a hymn to Christ as God, at the same time 
binding themselves by an oath not to commit any crime, but to ab- 
stain from theft, robbery, adultery, perjury, or repudiation of trust. 
After this was done, the meeting broke up ; they, however, came to- 
gether again to eat their meal in common, being quite guiltless of 
any improper conduct. But since my edict forbidding (as you or- 
dered) all secret societies, they had given this practice up. 

However, I thought it necessary to apply the torture to some 
young women who were called ministrce (deaconesses), in order, if 
possible, to find out the truth. But I could elicit nothing from them 
except evidence of some, debased and immoderate superstition ; so I 
deferred the trial, and determined to ask your advice. For the mat- 
ter seemed important, especially since the number of those who run 
into danger increases daily. All ages, all ranks, and both sexes, are 
among the accused, and the taint of the superstition is not confined to 
the towns ; it has actually made its way into the villages. But I be- 
lieve it possible to check and repress it. At all events, it is certain 
that temples which were lately almost empty are now well attended, 
and sacred festivals long disused are being revived. Victims too are 
tiowing in, whereas a few years ago such things could hardly find a 
purchaser. From this I infer that vast numbers might be reformed, 
if an opportunity of recantation were allowed them.” 

TRAJAN’S REPLY. 

“ I entirely approve of your conduct with regard to those Chris- 
tians of whom you had received information. We can never lay 
down a universal rule, as if circumstances were always the same. 
They are not to be searched for; but if they are reported and con- 
victed, they must be punished. But if any denies Ids Christianity 
and proves his words by sacrificing to our divinity, even if his for- 
mer conduct may have laid him under suspicion, he must be allowed 
the benefit of his recantation. No weight whatever should be at- 
tached to anonymous communications; they are no Roman way of 
dealing, and are altogether reiuehensible.” — Cruttwell. 

S 


420 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


During the period under consideration, Florus abridged 
Livy’s “ Annals Aulus Gellius (125-175 A.D.) crowded 
into his “Attic Nights” (a work in twenty books, prepared by 
night at Athens) a vast store of historical anecdotes and ex- 
tracts from works now lost; Gaius, the jurist, composed his 
“ Institutes and Fronto wrote his epistles. 

Apuleius. — Last of the writers of this age, but by no means 
least when we consider the influence of his tales upon mod- 
ern fiction, is Apuleius, author of the romance of “ the Golden 
Ass.” Lucius, the hero, an enthusiast in the study of magic, 
having seen the sorceress Pam'phile transform herself into 
an owl by rubbing an ointment on her person, endeavors, 
with the help of her maid, to imitate her example. But 
the girl selects the wrong box of ointment from her mis- 
tress’s cabinet; and Lucius, on applying it, is changed into 
a donkey. 

Hardly, however, had the metamorphosis been effected when 
a band of robbers made a descent upon the house, loaded 
a portion of their plunder on the ass’s back, and made good 
their escape, driving Lucius before them. In search of rose- 
leaves, which the maid told him would remove the spell, the 
hero meets with a series of marvellous adventures. Among 
the episodes introduced is the oft-repeated tale of Cupid and 
Psy'che. In the Decameron, Don Quixote, and Gil Bias, some 
of these old Roman stories are told over again. 

The style of Apuleius is unnatural ; his Latin is bad. Be- 
sides “the Golden Ass,” he wrote a discourse on Magic, on 
“ the God of Socrates,” and the “ Florida,” a collection of 
paragraphs from his own orations. 

LATER LATIN AUTHORS. 

After its temporary revival under Trajan’s kindly rule, 
Latin literature gradually sunk into a hopeless decline. In 
the long array of names that represent the last three cen- 


THE CHRISTIAN FATHERS. 


421 


turies of the Roman Empire, we find none more worthy 
of respect than those of the Latin fathers. Greatest of 
these was 

St. Augustine (354-430 A.D.), of whom Tulloch said “ no 
single name has ever made such an impression upon Chris- 
tian thought.” 

Impressed with the truth of the Gospel by the eloquence 
of Ambrose at Milan, where he had gone to teach rhetoric, 
Augustine at length received baptism, to the delight of his 
saintly mother Mon'ica, who had long prayed for his conver- 
sion. When raised to the bishopric of Hippo in Africa, Au- 
gustine zealously engaged in a controversy with Pela gius and 
his followers, who entertained heterodox views in relation to 
grace and original sin. The bishop put forth fifteen treatises 
in refutation of the Pelagian heresies. His greatest works 
were “the City of God,” a vindication of Christianity, “ Con- 
fessions,” and a treatise on the Trinity. 

Ambrose, bishop of Milan, who lived in the last half of the 
fourth century, was the author of numerous epistles and 
hymns, the Te Deum being one of his compositions. His 
“Offices” defines the duties of Christian pastors. 

St. Jerome (Hieronymus) (340-420), the great apostle of 
monasticism, from a convent at Bethlehem promulgated his 
Latin version of the Old and New Testaments, called the 
Vulgate {common) because designed for the use of the com- 
mon people, who understood no language but Latin. Jerome’s 
Bible, adopted as a standard version, was the first book ever 
put to press (i455)* 

St. Gregory, bishop of Constantinople, the last of the four 
great Latin fathers and the most poetical of early Christian 
writers, has left us a book of epistles, orations, and religious 
poems. He pressed into the service of Christianity the arts 
of Greek rhetoric, and assailed Julian the Apostate in two 
speeches that recall the invective of the Attic orators. 


422 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


Tertullian (150-230), “the Master,” one of the earlier 
Christian authors, is worthy of mention not only for his nu- 
merous practical treatises on Penance, Idolatry, Theatrical 
Exhibitions, etc., but also for his polemical works against 
unbelievers, and the “ Apologeticus ” in defence of Christian- 
ity. In after-life Tertullian joined a heretical sect. 

Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, the pupil of Tertullian, defend- 
ed his religion with an eloquent pen, and finally laid down his 
life for his faith (258). 

Lactantius, “ the Christian Cicero,” was the most learned 
man of Constantine’s age (306-337). His earliest effort, an 
hexameter poem, “ the Banquet,” gained him such reputation 
that the emperor Diocletian appointed him to give instruction 
in rhetoric at Nicomedia. The “ Banquet ” is lost ; but seve- 
ral of the author’s prose works remain, the greatest being his 
“ Divine Institutions.” In his treatise “ On the Death of the 
Persecutors,” Lactantius endeavors to prove the avenging 
hand of God in the violent ends of those emperors who had 
oppressed his people. 

Boethius. — Finally, we must notice the famous moral trea- 
tise “On the Consolation of Philosophy,” by Boethius, a Ro- 
man noble who outlived the fall of his country (476). A 
model of integrity and justice, Boethius was loaded with 
honors by Theod'oric, the Ostrogothic king of Italy; but 
at last, falsely ' accused by his enemies of witchcraft and 
treason, he was executed by his suspicious master (525). 

The above-mentioned work was much read during the 
Middle Ages. Alfred the. Great rendered it into Anglo-Saxon ; 
Chaucer, into English ; and later writers have reproduced its 
sentiments. 


SPECIMENS OF LATER POETRY. 

As a favorable specimen of later Latin poetry, we quote a 
few verses from an eclogue on hunting by Nemesian (280), 


NEMESIAN. — CLAUDIAN. 


423 


a favorite poet in the time of Charlemagne, extensively read 
in the schools : — 

“ The toil that should round lawn and forest spread, 
Hemming the nimble prey in moveless dread, 

Must with inwoven plumes its threads divide, 

From every various wing diversely dyed. 

This the keen wolf and flying stag shall scare, 

The fox, the monstrous boar, and shaggy bear; 

As if with lightning flash, aghast, confound. 

And still forbid to pass the checkered bound. 

This then, with various paint anointing, smear; 

Let florid hues with snowy white appear. 

And lengthen on the threads the alternate fear. 

A thousand terrors from his painted wings, 

To aid thy enterprise, the vultnre brings. 

The swan, the goose, the crane, and each that laves 
His webbed feet amid the stagnant waves. 

Then rarer plumes shall brighter tints bestow. 

Where scarlet deepens in its native glow : 

Where flights of birds on blooming pinions rise. 

And plumage reddens with its saffron dyes. 

Or streaks in green its pied varieties. 

Thy gear complete, when autumn’s end is near. 

And showery winter overhangs the year. 

Begin ; your hounds unkennel in the mead ; 

Begin : cVer champaign fields impel the steed. 

Hunt, while the daybreak sheds its glimmering light. 

And the fresh dews retain the scented tracks of night.” 

Eltox. 

A different style was that of Claudian, the court poet in 
the reign of Theodosius the Great (379-395). Tawdry and 
artificial in general, it was displayed to the best advantage in 
his amatory pieces and marriage hymns ; as in this descrip- 
tion of 

THE SLEEPING VENUS. 

“ It chanced, in quest of slumbers cool, the Queen 
Of Love in vine-wrought grot retired unseen ; 

Her star-bright limbs on tufted grass were spread, 

A heap of flowers the pillow for her head. 

The Idaliau maids lie round ; the Graces twine 
Their arras, and screened by spreading oak recline. 

The wingbd boys, where shade invites, repose 
On every side ; unstrung their loosened bows ; 


424 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


While, on a neighboring branch suspended high, 

With gentle flames their breathing quivers sigh. 

Some wakefnl sport, or through the thickets rove; 

Climb for the nest, or blithely strip the grove 
Of dewy apples for the Queen of Love ; 

Along the bough’s curved windings creeping cling, 

Or hang from topmost elm with light-poised wing.” 

Ausonius of Bordeaux, an affected verse -maker of the 
fourth century, wrote much that is second-rate, in the way 
of epigrams and idyls, too often of a licentious tone ; but 
there is some merit in the following reflections on 

ROSES. 

“’Twas spring; the morn returned in saffron veil. 

And breathed a bracing coolness in the gale. 

Through the broad walks I trod the garden bowers. 

And roamed, refreshed against the noontide hours. 

I saw the hoary dew’s congealing drops 
Bend the tall grass and vegetable tops ; 

The sprinkled pearls on every rose-bush lay. 

Anon to melt before the beams of day. 

I saw a moment’s interval divide 

The rose that blossomed from the rose that died. 

This with its cap of tufted moss looked green ; 

That, tipped with reddening purple, peeped between. 

One reared its obelisk with opening swell. 

The bud unsheathed its crimson pinnacle ; 

Another, gathering every purfled fold. 

Its foliage multiplied, its blooms unrolled. 

While this, that ere the passing moment flew. 

Flamed forth one blaze of scarlet on the view. 

Now shook from withering stalk the waste perfume. 

Its verdure stript, and pale its faded bloom. 

I marvelled at the spoiling flight of time. 

That roses thus grew old in earliest prime. 

E’en while I speak, the crimson leaves drop round, 

And a red brightness veils the blushing ground. 

These forms, these births, these changes, bloom, decay, 

Appear and vanish in the self-same day. 

One day the rose’s age ; and while it blows, 

In dawn of youth, it withers to its close. 

O virgins ! roses cull while yet ye may ; 

So bloom your hours, and so shall haste away.” 

Elton. 


BRIEF EXTRACTS. 


425 


GEMS OF LATIN THOUGHT.* 

PLAUTUS. 

“ Easy is sway over the good. — Man to his fellow-maii is a wolf. — 
No one left to himself is sufficiently wise. — All things are not equal- 
ly sweet to all. — No one is inquisitive without beiug ill-natured. — A 
woman who has good principles has dowry enough. — Courage in 
danger is half the battle. — Good fortune finds good friends.— Love is 
very fruitful in both honey and gall. — Flame is very near to smoke.” 

TERENCE. 

^‘The strictest administration of law is often the greatest wrong. — - 
Without danger no great and memorable deed is done. — Fortune fa- 
vors the brave. — Many men, many minds. — Nothing in excess. — As 
we can, when we cannot as we would. — Nothing is said now that has 
not been said before. — Obsequiousness begets friends, truthfulness 
hatred.” 

VARRO. 

It is divine nature that has given the country, human art that 
has built cities. — As a state ought to worship the gods in its public 
capacity, so ought each family.” 

CICERO. 

“Justice gives every one his due. — No one was ever great without 
divine inspiration. — The noblest spirit is the most strongly attracted 
by the love of glory. — One man is more useful in one thing, another 
in another. — Guilt lies in the very hesitation, even though the act 
itself has not been reached. — The chief recommendation comes from 
modesty. — Fear is no lasting teacher of duty. — Any man may err, 
but no one but a fool will persevere in error. — The memory of a well- 
spent life is everlasting. — Whatever you do, you should do it with 
your might. — Glory follows virtue like its shadow.” 

LUCRETIUS. 

“ The ring on the finger is worn thin by constant use. — It is pleas- 
ant, when winds roughen the sea with great waves, to behold from 
the shore another’s arduous toil.— We are all sprung from heavenly 
seeds. — Weigh well with judgment ; what seems true, hold fast ; gird 
thyself against what is false. — We see that the mind strengthens 
with the body, and with the body grows old.” 


* For these “ Geras,” as well as those under Greek literature, we have drawn 
to some extent on the collections of Ramage. 


426 


KOMAN LITERATURE. 


CATULLUS. 

“Nothing is sillier than a silly laugh. — What a woman says to her 
fond lover may well be written on the wind and rapid stream.” 

SALLUST. 

“Every one is the architect of his own fortune. — The endowments 
of the mind form the only illustrious and lasting possession. — Fear 
closes the ears of the mind. — The mind is the leader and director of 
the life of mortals. — In grief and miseries, death is a respite from 
sorrows, not a punishment. — To have the same likes and dislikes, 
this in a word is firm friendship.” 

YIRGIL. 

“ Endure, and preserve yourselves for prosperous times. — We are 
not all able to accomplish all things. — Love conquers all things, and 
to love let us yield. — Praise large farms, cultivate a small one. — The 
only safety for the vanquished is to hope for no safety. — Accursed 
thirst for gold, what dost thou not drive mortal breasts to do ? — No- 
where is faith safe. — Whatever shall happen, every kind of fortune 
is to be overcome by patient endurance. — Hug the shore ; let others 
launch out into the deep.” 


HORACE. 

“There is a mean in all things. — It is right for one craving for- 
giveness for his sins to grant it to others in turn. — There is nothing 
too high for mortals ; in our folly we storm heaven itself. — Life has 
given nothing to mortals without great toil. — Avoid inquiring what 
is about to be to-morrow. — To die for one’s native land is sweet and 
glorious. — Punishment presses on crime as a companion. — He has 
carried every point who has mingled the useful with the agreeable.” 

LIVY. 

“Wounds cannot be cured unless they are touched and handled. — 
Necessity is the ultimate and strongest weapon. — In nothing do 
events less answer to men’s expectations than in war. — It is safer 
that a wicked man should not be accused at all than that he should 
be acquitted. — In difficult and almost hopeless cases the boldest 
counsels are the safest.” 

TIBULLUS. 

“There is a God who forbids that crimes should be concealed. — 
Happy thou who shalt learn by another’s suffering how to avoid 
thine own. — While thy early summer-time is blooming, use it; it 
slips away with no slow foot.” 


GEMS OF LATIN THOUGHT. 


427 


PROPERTIUS. 

Neither is beauty a thing eternal, nor is fortune lasting to any ; 
later or sooner death awaits everybody. — In maddening love nobody 
sees. — Let no one be willing to injure the absent. — Great love crosses 
even the shores of death.” 


Ot^ID. 

“ A wounded member that cannot be healed must be cut off with 
the knife, lest the healthy part be affected. — It is the coward’s part 
to wish for death. — Even the unconquered man grief conquers. — A 
mind conscious of rectitude laughs at the lies of rumor. — The reefed 
sail escapes the storms of winter.” 

NEPOS. 

“No evil is great which is the last. — Peace is obtained by war. — 
The mother of a coward is not wont to weep.” 

PH^DRUS. 

“ The poor man, striving to imitate the powerful, comes to grief.— 
The fair speeches of a bad man are full of snares. — Rashness is an 
advantage to few, a source of evil to many. — The learned man al- 
ways has his riches within himself.” 

PLINY. 

The Eldei'. — “Every one is pleased with his own, and wherever we 
go the same story is found. — No one of mortals is wise at all hours. — 
Our ancestors used to say that the master’s eye is the best fertilizer 
for the field.” 

The Younger. — “Nothing seems as good, when we have gained it, 
as it did when we were wishing for it. — I deem him the best and 
most commendable who pardons others as if he himself daily went 
astray, yet abstains from faults as if he pardoned no one.” 

LUCAN. 

“Great fear is concealed by daring. — The prosperous man knows 
not whether he is truly loved. — An offence in which many are en- 
gaged, goes unpunished.” 

PETRONIUS ARBITER. 

“ A physician is nothing more than a satisfaction to the mind. — ■ 
Fear first made gods in the world. — There is no one of us that sin- 
neth not ; we are men, not gods. — Poverty is the sister of a sound 
mind.” 


428 


ROMAN LITERATURE. 


TACITUS. 

“ Traitors are odious even to those whom they benefit. — When the 
state is most corrupt, the laws are most numerous. — There will be 
vices as long as there are men. — Everything unknown is magnified. 
— It is a peculiarity of the human mind to hate one whom you have 
injured.’^ 

JUVENAL. 

Rare is the combination of beauty and modesty. — Nature never 
says one thing, and wisdom another. — Himself being the judge, no 
guilty man is acquitted. — The anger of the gods, however great it 
may be, yet certainly is slow. — Less frequent enjoyment of them 
makes pleasures keener.” 


MINOR POETS AND PROSE WRITERS. 


Cremu'tius Cordus, the historian: 
“Annals.” Cordus offended Tibe- 
rius by styling Cassius “ the last of 
the Romans,” and starved himself 
to death to escape the tyrant. 

Aurm'ius Bassus: histories of the 
civil and German wars. 

Asco'nius Pedia'nus : a grammarian 
of Patavium ; commentaries on Cic- 
ero’s orations. 

Petro'nius Arbiter, the companion 
and victim of Nero : author of “ Sa- 
tyricon,” a witty romance, of which 
a few fragments remain. 

Julius Fronti'nus : a self-made man 
of the Flavian era; works on the 
Roman aqueducts, military tactics, 
the measurement of land, etc. 

Licinia'nus (age of the Antonines) : 
a history of republican Rome ; style 
affected. 

Marcus Aurelius, the emperor (161- 
180): a devoted Stoic; his “Medi- 
tations ” (in Greek) full of noble sen- 
timents. 

Papinian and Ulpian, the jurists 
(about 200) : writers on law. 


Spartia'nus (300): “Biographies of 
the Roman Emperors.” 

^Elius Dona'tus (4th century): the 
preceptor of St. Jerome ; his “Art of 
Grammar” once a popular text-book. 

Prudentius Cle'mens (4th century) : 
a Christian poet ; hj^mns, etc. 

Avie'nus (4th centur\') : poems on as- 
tronomical and geographical subjects. 

Ammia'nus Marcelli'nus (died about 
400): the last Latm historian; his 
“ Thirty-one Books of Events,” a con- 
tinuation of the history of Tacitus 
through the reign of Valens (378). 

Symmachus (400) : a high-minded op- 
ponent of Christianity; defeated by 
Ambrose in an attempt to restore the 
altar of Victory ; orations, epistles. 

Rutilius (5th century) : poetical diary 
of a journey from Rome to Gaul; 
style terse and elegant. 

Priscian (6th century) : the greatest 
of classical grammarians; the most 
complete Latin Grammar of antiqui- 
ty. 


INDEX 


Academic School of Philosophy, 241. 
Accius, 328. 

Achaeus, 261. 

Achilles Tatius, 295. 

Acusilaus, 183. 
iElian, 302. 
iEneid, the, 362. 

-^schiiies, 257, 260. 
iEschylus, 193, 194. 

-rEsop, 181 . 

Agathon, 261. 

Agias, the Troezeiiian, 156. 

Albino van us, 382. 

Alcaeus, 164. 

Aleman, 178. 

Alphabetic Writing, 19, 20. 

Alphabets, Table of Ancient, 87. 
Ambrose, 421. 

Ammonius, 293. 

Amos, 97. 

Amphion, 138. 

Anacreon, 172. 

Anaxagoras, 234. 

Anaximander, 183. > 

Anaximenes, 183. 

Anthology, the, 297. 

Antimachus, 192. % 

Antisthenes, 254. 

Antonius, 327. 

Anyte, 280. 

Apocrypha, the, 99. 

Apollodorus, 280. 

Apollonius Rhodius, 275. 

Appian, 302. 

Apuleius, 420. 

Arabic literature, 114. 

Aratus, 280. 

Archilochus, 161. 

Archimedes, 276. 

Arctinus of Miletus, 156. 

Aristarchus, 277. 

Aristophanes, 213 ; of Byzantium, 277. 
Aristotle, 247. 

Arrian, 302. 

Aryans, the, 13. 

Assyrio-Babylonian literature, 106-114. 
Athanasius, 294. 

Augustine, St., 421. 


Augustus, 329, 334, 338, 354, 357, 373i 
380, 382. 

Aurelius, Marcus, 428. 

Ausonius, 424. 

Avatars, 39. 

Avesta, 60, 62. 

Avienus, 428. 

Bacchylides, 178. 

Bassus Aufidius, 428. 

Berosus, 279. 

Bias of Priene, 184. 

Bion, 269. 

Boethius, 422. 

Book of the Dead, 122, 126. 

Buddhist literature, 58, 

Cadmus of Miletus, 179, 183. 

Caecilius, 316. 

Caesar, Julius, 339. 

Callimachus, 274. 

Callinus, 159. 

Callistratus, 261. 

Calpurnius Piso, 328. 

Calvus, Licinius, 387. 

Carbo, 328. 

Carthaginian literature, 116. 

Cato the Censor, 324. 

Catullus, 352. 

Catulus, 328. 

Celsus, the philosopher, 293 ; the phy 
sician, 390. 

Champollion, 119, 120. 

Charon of Lampsacus, 184. 

Chilo of Sparta, 184. 

Chinese, language, 67 ; literature, 67-83, 
Chrysostom, St., 294. 

Cicero, 330. 

Cincius, 328. 

Cinna, 387. 

Claudian, 423. 

Clean thes, 280. 

Cleobulus of Lindus, 184. 

Cleon, 213, 226. 

Columella, 408. 

Comparative Philology, 33. 

Confucius, 70-73. 

Cordus, Cremutius, 428. 


430 


INDEX. 


Corinna, 186, 188. 

Cornelius Severus, 382. 

Cornutus, 392. 

Cotta, 328. 

Crassus, 327. 

Crates, the poet, 261 ; the grammarian, 
277, 329. 

Cratinus, 261. 

Croesus, 180, 181. 

Ctesias, 233. 

Cuneiform letters, 19, 65, 66, 105. 
Curtius, Quintus, 408. 

Cyclic Poets, 152, 156. 

Cynics, the, 254. 

Cyprian, 422. 

Cyrus the Younger, 229. 

Damophyla, 171. 

Daniel, 98. 

Darius, 66. 

David, 93, 94. 

Democritus, 237. 

Demosthenes, 256. 

Diodorus Siculus, 281. 

Diogenes, the Cynic, 255 ; Laertius, 302. 
Dion Cassius, 302. 

Dionysius, of Syracuse, 214, 242; of 
H^icarnassus, 281. 

Donatus, .^lius, 428. 

Drama, Hindoo, 54; Greek, 192, 263; 
Roman, 308. 

Ecclesiastes, 96. 

Ecclesiasticus, 99. 

Egyptian education, 131. 

Egyptian literature, 117-131. 

Eleatic School of Philosophy, 237. 
Empedocles, 236. 

Ennius, 311, 320. 

Epicharmus, 212. 

Epicurus, 238. 

Eratosthenes, 277, 

Erinna, 171. 

Euclid, 276. 

Eugamon of Cyrene, 156. 

Eumenes, 24. 

Euphorion, 280. 

Eupolis, 261. 

Euripides, 207. 

Eusebius, 294. 

Ezekiel, 98. 

Ezra, 92, 98. 

Fabius Pictor, 324, 328. 


Flaccus, Verrius, 387 ; Valerius, 408. 
Frontinus, 428. 

Galba, 328, 

Galen, 302. 

Gallus, iElius, 387. 

Glabrio, Acilius, 328. 

Gorgias, 255. 

Gracchi, the, 326. 

Gratius, 382. 

Greece, language of, 135 ; literature of, 
133-302. 

Gregory, St., 421. 

Habakkuk, 97. 

Hebrew, language, 84; literature, 83- 
104. 

Hecataeus, the Milesian, 183. 

Heliodorus, 295. 

Hellanicus, 184. 

Heraclitus, 183. 

Herodian, 302. 

Herodotus, 222. 

Hesiod, 15^ 

Hiero, 175, 187, 195. 

Hierocles, 295. 

Hieroglyphics, 18 : Chinese, 68; Cunei- 
form, 105, 106, 108; Egyptian, 120. 
Himyaritic inscriptions, 114. 
Hipparchus, the astronomer, 277. 
Hippocrates, 261. 

Hipponax, 177. 

Hirtius, 341. ^ 

Hittite inscriptions, 113. 

Homer, 139-152. 

Horace, 369. 

Hortensius, 327. 

Hosea, 97. 

lamblichus, 294. 

Ibycus, 178. 

Iliad, the, 141. 

Ion, 261. 

Ionic School of Philosophy, 234. 
Irenaeus, 293. 

Isaeus, 256. 

Isaiah, 96. 

Isocrates, 256. 

Italic School of Philosophy, 234. 

Jayadeva, 48. 

Jehuda, 101. 

Jeremiah, 97. 

Jerome, St., 421. 


INDEX. 


431 


Job, Book of, 93. 

Joel, 97. 

Jonah, 97. 

Jones, Sir William, 33. 

Josephus, 284. 

Joshua, Book of, 92. 

J udges. Book of, 92. 

Justin Martyr, 293. 

Juvenal, 408. 

Kalidasa, 46 ; lyrics of, 46 ; epics of, 48 ; 
dramas of, 50, 53. 

King, the live, 73. 

Kings, Books of the, 92. 

Labienus, Titus, 387. 

Lactantius, 422. 

Laelius, 326. 

Language spoken, 17 ; written, 18; the 
Sanscrit,31; the Avesta, 60; the Chi- 
nese, 67 ; the Hebrew, 84 ; the Chal- 
dean, 105; the Egyptian, 117; the 
Greek, 135 ; the Latin, 304. 

Languages, origin and relationship of, 
12; Aryan, 16; Semitic, 16, 83, 84; 
Turanian, 17. 

Latin, language, 304; literature, 303- 
428. 

Lavinius, 328. 

Lesches of Mytilene, 156. 

Library, the Pergamene, 24, 274; the 
royM Persian, 67 ; the imperial Chi- 
nese, 83; the Hebrew, at Jerusalem, 
104; the royal Assyrian, 110 ; the 
Alexandrian, 272. 

Licinianus, 428. 

Literature, General View of Ancient, 
25; Hindoo, 31-60; Persian, 60-67; 
Chinese, 67-83; Hebrew, 83-104; 
Assyrio - Babylonian, 104-114; Ara- 
bic, 114; Phoenician, 115; Egyptian, 
117-131; Grecian, 133-302; Koman, 
303-428. 

Livius Andronicus, 309. 

Livy, 382. 

Longinus, 294. 

Longus, 295. 

Lucan, 397. 

Lucian, 288. 

Lucilius, 323. 

Lucretius, 348. 

Lyceum, the, 248. 

Lycophron, 280. 

Lysias, 256. 


Mahabharata, the, 43. 

Manetho, 279. 

Manilius, 382. 

Manu, Code of, 38. 

Marcellinus, 428. 

Martial, 404. 

Maximus, Valerius, 389. 

Meleager, 280, 297, 300. 

Menander, 264. 

Mencius, 79. 

Messala, 376, 386. 

Micah, 97. 

Mimnermus, 177. 

Moschus, 269, 271. 

Moses, 90. 

Musasus, 138, 302. 

Museum, the, 272. 

Myrtis, 186. 

Naevius, 310, 320. 

Nahum, 97. 

Nemesian, 422. 

Neo-Platonism, 293. 

Nepos, Cornelius, 347, 

Nicander, 280. 

Nonnus, 302. 

Nossis, 280. 

Odyssey, the, 147. 

. Oppian, 302. 

Origen, 293. 

Ovid, 379. 

Pacuvius, 319. 

Panini, 57. 

Papinian, 428. 

Papyrus Ebers, 124. 

Parallelism, 89. 

Paterculus, Velleius, 389. 

Pausanias, 292. 

Pedianus, 428. 

Pentateuch, 90. 

Periander, 184. 

Peripatetic School of Philosophy, 247. 
Persian literature, 60-67. 

Persius, 392. 

Petronius Arbiter, 428. 

Phaedrus, 390. 

Pherecydes of Syros, 179. 

Philemon, 265. 

Philo, 104, 293. 

Phocylides, 177, 

Phoenician literature, 1 1 5. 

Phrynicus, 193. 


432 


INDEX. 


Pilpay, 56. 

Pindar, 185. 

Pittacus, 164, 184. 

Plato, 241. 

Plautus, 312. 

Pliny, the Elder, 401 ; the Younger, 418. 
Plotinus, 293. 

Plutarch, 284. 

Pollio, Asinius, 386 ; Vitruvius, 387. 
Polybius, 277. 

Polycarp, 293. 

Porphyry, 293. 

Priscian, 428. 

Prisse Papyrus, 124. 

Probus, 408. 

Procopius, 302. 

Propertius, 377. 

Proverbs, the, 96. 

Prudentius Clemens, 428. 

Psalms, the, 93. 

Ptolemy, the astronomer, 292. 

Puranas, 35. 

Pyrrho, 238. 

Pythagoras, 234. 

Quintilian, 407. 

Quintus Smyrnasus, 302. 

Ramayana, the, 40. 

Rig- Veda, 34. 

Rosetta Stone, 119. 

Rufus, Valgius, 387. 

Rutilius, the jurist, 328 ; the poet, 428. 

Sakoontala, 50. 

Sallust, 343. 

Samuel, Books of, 92. 

Saneha, Memoirs of, 124. 

Sanscrit, language, 3 1 ; literature,31-60. 
Sappho, 165. 

Scipio, 323, 326. 

Semites, 16 ; languages of, 83, 84. 
Seneca, the rhetorician, 386; the moral- 
ist, 394. 

Septuagint, the, 104, 279. 

Shoo, the four, 77. 

Silius Italicus, 408. 

Simonides, 174; the Elder, 177. 

Sisenna, 328. 

Skeptics, the, 238. 

Socrates, 239. 

Solomon, 96, 

Solon, 177, 179, 184. 

Sophocles, 200. 


Spartianus, 428. 

Stasinus of Cyprus, 156. 

Statius, 405. 

Stesichorus, 178. ' 

Stoic School of Philosophy, 253. 

Strabo, 281. 

Suetonius, 415. 

Sulpicia, 406. 

Susarion, 212. 

Symmachus, 428. 

Tacitus, 412. 

Talmud, the, 100. 

Terence, 315. 

Terpander, 178. 

Tertullian, 422. 

Thales, 180, 184, 23^4. 

Theocritus, 266. 

Theognis, 177. 

Theophrastus, 252. 

Theopompus, 233. 

Thespis, 192. 

Thucydides, 225. 

Tibullus, 375. 

Timaeus, 279. 

Timocreon, 178. 

Trogus, Pompeius, 386. 

Tryphiodorus, 302. 

Tubero, 387. 

Turanians, 12 ; languages of, 17. 
Turpilius, 328. , 

Tyrtaeus, 160. 

Ulpian, 428. 

Varius, 375. 

Varro, 337. 

Veda, the, 34. 

VirgU, 355-369. 

Writing, ideographic, 18 ; phonetic, 19 : 
among the Hindoos, 60 ; of the 
Persians, 66 ; Chinese, 68 ; Hebrew, 
86; Cuneiform, 104 ; Egvptian, 118; 
Greek, 136,156, 180,262.‘ 

Xanthus, 184. 

Xenophanes, 177, 237. 

Xenophon, 229. 

Zend, 67. 

Zeno, 253. 

Zenodotus, 277. 

Zoroaster, 61-64. 


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